


Bleeding Blue

by MidnightCassiopeia



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Anxiety, Bang Yongguk-centric, Choi Junhong | Zelo & Moon Jongup Are Best Friends, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Mental Abuse, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Moon Jongup-centric, Please Be careful, Royalty, Sad, Sad Junhong, Sad Yongguk, So Sorry Yongguk, Triggers, Verbal Abuse, hikikomori, i tried guys, sad daehyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-06-26 06:16:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19762273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightCassiopeia/pseuds/MidnightCassiopeia
Summary: "You did nothing Yongguk. Nothing at all.""Then why?" The question was whispered, lost in Jongup's tunic as the oldest of the two boys leaned his head on his brother's shoulder, face hidden in it's rough fabric."I wish I knew Gguk. I wish I knew."orHated, reviled and outcast by the King his Father, Yongguk must ask himself: Is it really worth the pain? For Peace? For the people? For Jongup?





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bluejaykat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluejaykat/gifts).



> So I've written this whole fic out and I plan to post a chapter a day. There are triggering chapters in here and I will try to mark all of them. Also I'm sorry if any of the members feel Ooc. They started writing themselves and I just went with it LoL. Thank you for taking the time to read this! Comments are always appreciated!

"The people are unhappy Father; the war has been taking a toll on both hearts and pockets and they can barely sustain themselves on the sparse crops we harvested this season." Yongguk's deep voice resonated in the hall as he stood tall, dark hair swept back, stance wide and solid, hands behind his back and his determined brown eyes fastened on King Yongsu who paced in front of his throne. 

"And why must you bring this up my boy? If Astrea would simply stop being so stubborn, the problem of the crops would be solved. Instead they shed their land's blood. It is their fault not mine."

The boy looked up at his father, an inconspicuous change in his stance, his shoulders dropping and feet moving closer together, spoke of how often he had heard the King like this. This was the fifth time that week as he tried to reason with his father to at least attempt a peace treaty with simpler, less painful terms than those the man had his heart set on. Jongup watched from the shadows of the throne room, having slipped in and hurried behind one of the stone pillars lining the large hall. It seemed only he noticed the flicker of despair in his brother's eyes as he pleaded still more with the irritated man before him. 

"GET OUT. I have heard enough! This is childish Yongguk and I will have none of it. Get out."

He was stricken, face paled from the usual honey-tan glow that Jongup associated with him, his eyes dimmed, and he bowed, spine stiff and straight, and then he was gone, face frozen in the expression Jongup knew meant he was holding himself back from crying, whether from frustration or hurt, maybe even both. Hurrying, he slipped through the doors after him, already knowing where his older brother was heading. 

The shelves of books and scrolls absorbed sound, creating the silent, calming atmosphere Yongguk so loved and most likely needed right now. Jongup ran a hand through his dark hair, causing it to spike up and become even more messy than it was previously. He knew Yongguk was here among the shelves, possibly crying, possibly buried deep in one of his old books. He debated whether he should try to comfort his brother or go and spar with Junhong like he so badly wanted to. Finally, he decided to look for him. If he was crying he would comfort him, if he was reading, he would go spar. 

Slipping through the shelves with all the grace his sword-fighting had taught him, he finally saw him, tucked into a corner, his tall form curled around the book he had pulled from the shelves, flipping through the pages, eyes focused as they scanned the letters, his lips soundlessly forming the words as though physically forming them could make him forget his frustration that much easier. Jongup slipped back out, leaving his older brother in peace. He would talk with him later after he had gotten some of the pent-up aggression he had been feeling ever since he had stepped foot in the throne-room, out.

He found Junhong in the armory, looking over the swords and cleaning some invisible spot on his own blade. Jongup called out and his friend looked up, smile ready and hand already reaching for the practice sabers. Stepping out onto the practice grounds and assuming their stances, Junhong swung first, Jongup sidestepping and parrying as the boy tried to gain some ground within his personal space. The youngest prince pushed back, forcing his frustration to fuel his swing as he aimed for Junhong's leg already knowing the boy would stop him. They continued like this, swinging, parrying and thrusting the dulled swords at each other until both were panting from the exertion.

"I yield" Junhong leaned over, hands on his knees, sweaty black hair hanging down as he took deep breathes, forcing his lungs to expand and take in the oxygen he had expended in the fight.

Jongup was in much the same state, although his mind felt much clearer and he flopped down onto the sand, hair splayed out behind his head and cheeks puffing out as he too took deep breathes.

"Feel better your Highness?"

Daehyun stepped out onto the sand and leaned over him, offering him a hand up. Jongup gripped his arm and jumped up in one fluid motion, kicking up sand as he went. Dusting off his tunic and pants he smiled a little at the general, his trainer, and nodded a little. 

"He insulted him again. Called him a child and sent him out like he was a mere peasant and not his son and successor. He's up in the library reading now, but I'm going to go up there and sit with him. Thank you Junhong."

"Any time Jonguppie" 

"Come back down for a drink, some tea or warm milk, when you are done your highness. I'll be here to talk to if you need it." His cousin looked troubled, but understanding, his dark brown hair ruffled and stance loose but defensive.

Nodding Jongup made his way back in, walking up the stairs and making his way back into the library. He moved through the shelves again, back to the corner he knew he'd left his older brother in and found him asleep, the book he'd been reading closed on his lap. The youngest prince slid the book from his grasp and placed it on a table against the wall for a maid to put away, he did not want to mix up the system they had here. He settled on the floor next to Yongguk after that, watching his sibling sleep, all the frustration and pain wiped away, peace smoothing out his features and the lines in his forehead as he slumbered. He wished his brother could look like this all the time, but he knew that if their father would not see reason and listen to Yongguk, or at least listen to him the way he used to, then his brother would only be able to find rest like this. He hated it. His brother wanted nothing but the best for the people, why couldn't their father see that?

The next thing Jongup knew, Yongguk was calling his name, gently shaking him awake. Rubbing his eyes and looking up, he met his brother's tired gaze and strained smile. Unwrapping his arms from around his legs, he stood with his brother's help and walked to his room, quiet, waiting for his brother to make the first motion, break the silence and say what he needed too. They sat down on Yongguk's bed, Jongup watching as he messed with his fingers, fidgeting and nervous, something he never used to be. He really did hate what his brother was being reduced to. He may be able to put up a strong facade in front of their father, but Jongup knew better. 

"I'm sorry Jonguppie...." 

Jongup snaked his arm around his older brother, hugging him close as he started to cry.

"Why? There's nothing to be sorry for. All you're trying to do is make life better for the people. Why Father cannot see that is beyond me."

"I don't understand what I did, why won't he listen? He never used to be so blunt or aggravated when I would state my opinion. What has changed?" His shoulders hunched, and eyes closed tight as if to prevent the tears streaming down his face, the oldest prince looked fragile, like one word could cause his whole world to shatter, if it had not already.

Tightening his grip on Yongguk's shaking form, Jongup took a deep, steadying breathe to calm his own emotions. He would not abandon Yongguk like this. Not when he needed him more than ever before. He might have to destroy a training dummy or two later, but right now, Yongguk was in no state for him to leave him alone, with no support.

"You did nothing Yongguk. Nothing at all."

"Then why?" The question was whispered, lost in Jongup's tunic as the oldest of the two boys leaned his head on his brother's shoulder, face hidden in it's rough fabric.

"I wish I knew Gguk. I wish I knew."

They sat like that for a while, Yongguk resting against Jongup. His head was nestled between the younger, smaller boy's head and shoulders, torso turned toward him and clutching at his tunic as if to ground himself, while his legs were curled behind him, on the bed, figure sagging as he finished crying and simply breathed. Jongup sat up straight, arms wrapped around him and supporting the fragile frame, letting him release his frustration and pain. When Yongguk's body seemed limper he listened to the deeper breathes his older brother was taking and glanced down to see his eyes closed in sleep again. He sighed. He gently lifted Yongguk and laid him the rest of the way on his bed, straightening his legs and covering him with the blanket. Standing he checked one more time to be sure Yongguk was sleeping alright and then slipped out of the room. He instructed a maid to see that no one disturbed the oldest prince and then hurried down to the practice grounds in search of Daehyun. If anyone would understand his worries, it would be their cousin, the general.


	2. Comfort

Daehyun was waiting for him, kettle already on the fire and tea settled in two cups on the smooth wood table he'd brought back with him from a trip he took to Latros to the East of them. The warm flicker of the flames on the stones in the general's room cast a warm glow about the place and Jongup felt like he could relax a little in his trainer's presence. Daehyun himself sat at the table fiddling with a knife and watching the steam rise from the water over the fire, deep in thought. His brows knit together, and his hair was ruffled as though he had run his hand through it multiple times.

"He's sleeping now Dae.... every time Father goes off, it becomes worse. I don't understand. They used to be so close.... what changed?"

"Grief changes a man Jongup, but it's been four years, he has no right to take it out on his sons and country like this."

"You mean Mother and Areum"

"Yes. Your Father loved your mother very, very dearly. Perhaps too much. When she died giving birth to Areum, and then Areum died, taking with her the last gift his wife had given him... he changed so much Jongup, so much."

Jongup frowned. Daehyun was looking off into the distance as though he was looking at a time long forgotten, but much happier. He wished he had not been so young when he lost his mother, eleven was a terrible age and he could only recall the fuzziest of images of both her and the way his father used to be. He could more clearly recall Yongguk and his father spending long nights huddled around maps, discussing strategy, politics and the country's well-being, but then had come the slow separation, the biting words and differing opinions as Yongguk went out and began to see his people and hear their cries for the war to end. The more recent memories were sharper, the pleas for his father to please just listen ignored and his proposals rebuffed and rebuked.

"If my Uncle would only see reason... I plan to try to speak to him Jong, but I can make no promises. The best advice I can give you at this time is to be there for him, let him vent to you and lean on you. I'm afraid that the way things have been going, the storm is only growing in intensity, and you are his safe haven to weather the raging winds."

Jongup sighed and nodded before finishing his tea. "Supper will be soon. I should go in and wake Gguk, thank you Dae."

Daehyun watched his cousin leave, the youthful spring to his step no longer there and the sword trained shoulders sagging under the weight of worries he should not have. He missed when he could walk past the courtyard or the practice grounds and hear the two brothers banter, laughter clear and true, sometimes joined by the deep rumble of his Uncle's voice sometimes accompanied by the soft tones of his Aunt.

He had been in Latros when the word came that the Queen and the newborn Royal, Areum, had died. He had tried his best to finish his diplomatic mission in the country as fast as possible so that he might be there for his cousins, but he had underestimated the time required to complete the task he had been sent to accomplish, and by the time he had come back to the court, his uncle was a changed man. It had not been obvious at first, but the way he walked, the tone of his voice, all bespoke of his grief.

After the war had begun, he had been serving on the front-lines. He had seen firsthand how the bloodshed was affecting the people. But he had not had the courage to speak where his cousin had. And now the general was stationed at the castle the personal trainer of the youngest prince and guardian to a Latrosian Noble's son who had been sent with him to learn diplomacy in the Natiorian court before the war had started, and who had refused to be sent home and instead had found an almost permanent residence in Daehyun's home. Junhong himself stepped into their shared quarters and immediately noticed the dagger Daehyun was fiddling with again and the empty cups on the table. 

"He came by then?"

"Yes."

"He'll be ok sir. You're a good cousin and trainer."

"I know Jun... it's just sometimes, I feel so inadequate or like I was a coward to accept the orders for me to return. I know I plan to speak to the King now, but why could I not then? Anyways. Supper is almost ready. We should go to the mess hall."

"Sir, your dagger?"

Daehyun glanced down. The dagger he held, silver with a gold inlay of his House's crest on its hilt, had been a gift from Queen Inna on the occasion of his fifteenth birthday, and he found himself fidgeting with it when concentrating, deep in thought or disturbed. At the moment, he supposed he was all three. Gently he placed it back in its sheath and set it beneath his bed in his room. 

"I am sorry. Let us go now."

Supper was a quiet affair, and Yongguk was glad for it. As soon as he was able, he excused himself from his Father's and brother's presence and hurried back to the library in search of the book on diplomacy he had been reading earlier. Perhaps something in it could help him to persuade his father to consider the peace treaty. He just needed to understand what and how he was doing this all wrong. Perhaps he had mistakenly written a part of his draft? He reread it for the hundredth time. Perhaps it was his tone of voice that needed to change when negotiating with his father? He resolved to be more formal and steadfast. 

After several hours of the same, Yongguk looked up from the book and his draft and realized the maids had come and gone, leaving him with a candle, as they knew he would take it with him when he left. It must have been far past the usual time for bed, so he stood, stretched his long arms and legs, which were cramped from having held the same position for so long and then bent, picking up his one source of light and left the library. Silently he closed the door and crept through the castle, heading to his own room. Jongup sat outside it, legs crossed, head back against the wooden door and eyes closed in sleep. Yongguk paused for a moment and observed him. He suddenly felt guilty. The younger boy must be so worried about him, and after he had cried on him today, again... Jongup must have not realized he was in the library and come to check on him. 

Setting the candle down, the oldest prince slipped his arms under and around his brother and picked him up, nudging his door open and walking over to his bed he settled him into it and covered him with the blanket. Sitting down in the chair beside his fireplace, he watched him sleep, contemplating how to repay his brother. He had been there for him so much lately. Perhaps he should spend some time training with him. He knew Jongup loved his sword-fighting, the way he could move so freely and fluidly, almost dancing around his opponent as he parried and thrust at his foe. He himself was getting a little out of practice. It would do him good. 

A rustle from the bed caught his attention and he turned to see Jongup had sat up and was looking around in sleepy surprise before settling his gaze on Yongguk across the room. Suddenly a look of recollection crossed his face and he surged forward, dragging the blankets with him and making Yongguk jump up from his chair, worried the younger boy would fall off the bed.

"I came to check on you Gguk! Are you okay? I'm sorry I fell asleep. Did you carry me in here?"

A nod of affirmation and Jongup smiled, soft and happy. "Thank you." A moment of silence, "Hey Gguk?"

"Yes Jonguppie?"

"Can I have a hug?"

Jongup looked so young in that moment, arms outstretched, hope in his eyes a soft smile on his lips and his hair, tousled from sleep, falling into his eyes. Even if Yongguk had wanted to say no, he wouldn't have had the heart. He crossed the room and gathered his younger brother in his arms, burying his face in Jongup's hair, holding him tight like he might disappear at any second. 

"Thank you Guppie. I'm sorry I've been so distracted. May I join you for practice tomorrow?"

The reply was muffled against his shoulder where Jongup had hidden his head, savoring this moment with his older brother, arms wrapped tight around his torso. "Yes, please."

Yongguk sighed in relief, body sagging with released tension. Why he did not know.

Suddenly he felt Jongup's hands creeping toward his waist, inching closer to his ticklish spot. He squirmed away, reaching under Jongup's arms to tickle him, defending himself from the attempted sneak attack. Jongup laughed, pulling his arms in closer to his body, eyes crinkling up and legs kicking out in an attempt to defend himself from his assailant.

"You'll have to do better than that Guppie!

"You say that like I can't Gguk!"

The two tussled on the bed a bit more, legs flailing and hands searching for the most ticklish spots to torture each other with, their troubles all but forgotten as they each tried to catch the other off guard and gain the upper hand. Eventually they collapsed together against the pillows, blankets a mess about them and an unfortunate pillow or two laying victim upon the floor. They were both breathless, energy spent and fatigue setting in. They snuggled closer together, Jongup wrapping his arms around the taller man, like the child he still was, seeking the comfort and warmth Yongguk loved to provide. 

"I missed you."

The phrase was whispered, half-lost in the blankets and deep breaths of sleep, but Yongguk heard it, and the guilt returned. He really hadn't been there for Jongup as much as he wanted to be. Whether or not that was his responsibility, he wanted to protect him, stop this war before Jongup ever had to join it. Turning ever so slightly, he wrapped his arms tighter around his younger brother.

"I missed you too."

They fell asleep like that, hugging each other tight, comforted by the other's presence, to be found by the maids next morning, who elected to let them sleep, the exhaustion apparent on their faces. 


	3. Threats

Jongup woke up, tired eyes blinking open and taking in the light streaming through the window in his brother's room. He realized he was still hugging Yongguk, arms around his older brother and he smiled, replaying last night in his head. He remembered what Yongguk had asked and it took all his self-restraint not to immediately leap up and change to go to the training grounds. His brother had slept so little lately, and then they had gone to sleep so late last night. He'd known Yongguk was in the library when he had gone up to his brother's room, he'd simply decided to wait instead of finding him. Now he wished he hadn't. There were still little hints here and there of his exhaustion, a slight frown passing over his features as Jongup observed him.

Yongguk shook violently and then he was awake, almost throwing himself forward as whatever he had been dreaming woke him abruptly, startling Jongup into scrambling backward a little.

"Jongup!"

"I'm here! It's ok Gguk! I'm ok!"

Jongup had lost his original hold on the oldest when he had jerked awake like that, but now he clutched him from the back, trying to calm his brother down. He felt him sag back against him and the younger of the two sighed in relief, still holding his brother tight. They sat like that for a while, neither speaking. Whatever Yongguk had dreamed, Jongup did not think his brother would want to relive it, and besides, he was here now. That was all that mattered. There was one way that Jongup knew to get his mind off it after cuddling like this, and he was so very ready to go as promised.

"Ready to go train Gguk?"

"Sure Guppie, just one moment. let me change, alright?" The tired, but still genuine gummy smile his brother sent him as he walked across the room reassured Jongup and he jumped out of the bed himself to go prepare in his own chambers.

"I'll meet you down there then!"

Jongup raced down the hall, forgetting for a moment that he was a prince, and that he was fifteen, old enough to walk at a fast pace, rather than run like a little boy through the halls. Breathless, he threw on a new tunic, wrapped a belt around his waist and was down in the training grounds, preparing the training swords. He grabbed his brother's favorite wanting to have the best training session possible as it had been longer than he could remember since they had last had a match. 

The smile Yongguk greeted him with as he stepped onto the grounds was worth everything Jongup could think of, and as he handed him his blade, he returned that smile with one that, he hoped, was just as wide. Stepping back, they fell into stance, and then began what Jongup loved, the dance, the intricate steps and the mix of defensive and offensive moves. Fake a thrust at the left leg, sweep up and right at the right arm, parry a blow to his waist and defend against a jab toward his chest. Yongguk pressed forward, skill and experience guiding him, but Jongup read him, saw his next moves and parried, returning with his own blows. Finally, with a flick of the wrist, Jongup had disarmed him, chest heaving, head spinning from the effort and a grin wide enough to split his face causing his eyes to crinkle up. Pride filled his chest as Yongguk smiled back, breathing just as hard.

"Well done Guppie! You've beat me fairly in an even match. I must need to work on my swordsmanship, you're getting too skilled for me to handle."

"You'd do well to."

The deep rumbling voice behind them caused them to freeze, Yongguk's face melting back into a stoic, emotionless mask, causing Jongup's heart to fall as he watched his brother shrink beneath it. The King was not done yet either as he continued to berate his eldest son.

"This is why he's better than you as a candidate for King you know. He understands how to fight. You? You only understand books."

Shock flickered through Yongguk's eyes as he turned to face his father, Jongup openly staring at the man as he blatantly insulted and compared the Crown Prince to him. Since when had their father ever believed fighting was more important than knowledge? Jongup suspected he knew, but it did not reduce the shock of hearing his father speak in such a manner in any amount. In fact, it bothered him. Although Yongguk read a good deal, it was only to further his knowledge and diplomatic capabilities so that he may better rule when their father passed on. He was no less skilled in the sword than Jongup and had had very little time for practice as of late what with his research so that he could convince his Father to accept his draft of a Peace treaty. 

"It's not--"

"No Jongup, it is true." The King swept away, stalking back into the castle in the direction he had so silently appeared from.

Horrified Jongup stepped back, unconsciously reaching behind him for his older brother, shocked at his father's words. But Yongguk was already gone. Most likely for the library, perhaps to his room. All Jongup knew was that he was going to need support, and Jongup was going to be there for him. 

Yongguk knew he was not as good as his brother, knew his father preferred him. He left before Jongup had even noticed he was gone, after the King told him that his brother was a better candidate. Perhaps he was right. Jongup never spoke back or closed himself in the Library. He never tried to argue about the war or isolate himself in order to perfect his rejected Peace Treaty drafts. No, in his father's eyes, he was perfect compared to Yongguk, and maybe, he was right. This only made his dream last night all the more poignant as he remembered the nightmare.

Remembered the way he had turned too late, seen the soldier behind Jongup, his blade already entering his brother's back and exiting through his chest, crimson dripping from its tip. The sword was withdrawn, dropping his brother on the muddy ground, gasping in pain and shock, the life fading from his eyes and blood trickling down the side of his mouth. Yongguk cut the soldier down, screaming with rage, fought off the other soldiers who would have stepped on his brother's body, and then fell to his knees beside it, sobbing. He wrapped him in his arms, cradling his head, turning his face inward and hugging him, begging him "Please, Please, don't be dead, don't leave me. I'm sorry, I failed you, I failed you. I tried, I did. But I failed you." Jongup did not answer. His eyes were a dull, lifeless brown staring straight ahead at some distant point Yongguk could not see, his body heavier in his armor than he had ever felt in life. Yongguk screamed his name, all his sorrow, guilt and rage coming out in the one word that mattered more to him than any other in that moment, one defiant cry against how unfair all of this was. He woke up, still screaming…

Yongguk shook himself out of the memory.

He had to convince his father. He could not let Jongup become the thing he had seen in his dream, that cold, dead body. And maybe when it came time for one of them to assume the throne, he could step aside for Jongup. He picked up the book again, refusing to feel sorry for himself. If he could not stop the war for the people, he would continue, for Jongup. 

Daehyun stood in the shadows of the courtyard, watching as his Uncle Yongsu stalked away from his youngest son and the ruined happy atmosphere that had just surrounded the two brothers. 

Jongup had turned to go back in with tears in his eyes and arms wrapped around himself as if protecting against what his father had said. The practice swords lay in the dust of the practice arena, forgotten. Daehyun couldn't stand this. Yongguk and Jongup deserved better than this, so he followed the King already formulating his speech, his plea for the man to remember he had a son and not a practice dummy to verbally abuse.

He definitely wanted to go to Jongup in that moment, and wrap him in a hug, holding the parts that were fragmenting and keep him from breaking like Yongguk already was. But he felt he needed to do this first and so he knocked on the monarch’s door.

“Come in” the voice was low, almost a growl and Daehyun took a moment to make sure he had everything straight.

“Your Highness, Uncle. I wanted to speak to you about your son.”

“Daehyun! My finest general! I needed to speak to you! The front line needs a clear eye to make sure the soldiers are truly on their toes. I’m sending you to do a review and make sure the generals and men there are doing their jobs. I’m sure there is no problem my boy?” The look in the man’s eye was dangerous and warned that no argument should be made.

Daehyun still decided to try. “I’m honored uncle, but about your sons?”

“Jongup? He is doing fine! Your training is excellent my boy!”

His heart fell. Daehyun sighed as everything he had wanted to say seemed gone with the King’s refusal to acknowledge Yongguk. He simply bowed and asked, “When would you like me to go sir?”

“Tomorrow”

“So so—I, yes sir.” Daehyun cut his question off as Yongsu glared at him. He was treading on thin ice with the opening question, and he knew if he went further he would quite possibly regret it.

“Go on Daehyun. I look forward to the results. Mayhap if necessary I’ll send you to Latrosia again, after all I’m sure I can find Jongup a new tutor and your ward needs to go home at some point!”

The threat was poorly hidden, but Daehyun knew what the King meant. Obey or be exiled. He left the room with another small bow and a heavy heart.

After his failed attempts in the King’s presence to speak some sense into him, Daehyun turned toward the Church, his need for guidance leading his steps. The Chapel was fairly empty, the stained-glass casting shards of colored light on the wooden pews and illuminating the space. Kneeling Daehyun settled his arms on the pew in front of him and his head on his forearms, starting with the familiar Our Father. He continued this way until a quiet presence settled down next to him. 

"If you'd like to talk, perhaps we can take a walk in the garden?" Father Kim's voice was quiet, understanding. 

Together they left the Chapel and stepped into the green of the Castle gardens, where Dae found he felt he could breathe a little more freely. 

"Father, it's my uncle. I don't understand why he is treating his sons this way. Just today I watched him compare Yongguk to Jongup, and when I tried to speak to him, not only did he refuse to acknowledge Yongguk, but he also sent me on a mission. Father... what do I do? I feel almost like it is my fault somehow, for not being here when Aunt Inna passed."

"Dae, it is no fault of yours. No man can stop death, and grief is a natural, healthy response. 

“Unfortunately, the King has allowed his to consume him and he has chosen a most unfortunate and unhealthy outlet. And in that regard, there is little I can tell you to do but Pray. Prayers and God's Will are more powerful than a thousand armies combined. I, too, pray that he wakes up and sees his error, but I am also worried that not only is this a spiritual problem, but a physical one at that. If he becomes violent, please, call the apothecary. Please." 

"Alright Father. Thank You." Daehyun was about to turn before a thought occurred to him, “Father? I am leaving tomorrow, please pray for me? And possibly a blessing for the trip?”

The Priest smiled quietly, agreeing and complying with a nod. Afterward, walking back into the Chapel, Daehyun found Junhong kneeling in front of a statue of the Blessed Mother, hands clasped over wooden beads and lips moving in silent prayer. Daehyun decided to wait for him to finish, knowing the Latrosians were even more serious about their prayers than Natiorians and he respected them for that.

It did not take Junhong long before he was done and turning he smiled at Daehyun where he sat. Together they left the Chapel and Daehyun considered asking him if Jongup had said anything to him. Considering his words, he finally took the plunge.

"Junhong? Has Jongup said anything to you?... About this afternoon?"

A quiet nod of affirmation. Daehyun's chest constricted painfully. Jongup and Junhong were just kids, or at least, they had barely reached adolescence. They should not have to deal with this insanity. 

"It's alright Hyun. Really. Yongguk and Jonguppie are strong. And with you to support them, they'll be ok."

"I'm sorry Jun, it's just... ever since the Queen died... and I was late in coming home... I just feel so guilty. I know Father said to pray, but I feel so restless. Like I could and should be doing more, and I'm not. You know Yongguk had to care for Junhong all by himself for the first few months because I took so long? That his father locked himself in leaving them no instructions, and Yongguk took it upon himself to try to make sure the Kingdom ran semi-smoothly and Jongup was happy? I should have been here Jun... I should have--" 

"Daehyun, sir, you think too much. I know this. You were just as bad when you were on that diplomatic mission at home. Always questioning if you said the right thing or not. Honestly sir. You are not at fault, and you are a great support. Besides, if you keep questioning yourself, who will Jonguppie and Yongguk have to lean on?"

Junhong looked at Daehyun expectantly, like he was waiting for Daehyun to reach the same revelation. And perhaps he had. The thought that he was his cousins' support and pillar reminded him that even if he had been late, he was still there. Smiling softly, calmer now, he thanked Junhong. 

"You really are learning aren't you Jun." 

"Only from the best sir. I just wish my father could see me now."

"Promise we’ll go back to Latros as soon as I am free and able. Alright Jun? Unless you want me to send you with someone else?"

"I'd much rather travel with you sir. You're so knowledgeable. Besides, Father likes you. You impressed him with everything you know, that's why he sent me with you."

Daehyun laughed. "Thanks, Junhong. I needed that. Also, I’ll be gone for a while. The King wishes for me to leave tomorrow for the front lines to do a review."

“So soon sir? I will pray for your safe return.” Junhong knew he looked surprised but did little to attempt to hide it.

By this point they had reached their chambers, and Junhong bid the general farewell for the moment as he went to write letters, most likely addressed to home. Daehyun really would need to take the boy home as soon as the opportunity arose, as he should have, ages ago. 


	4. Silence

With a crick in his neck and his spine in a curved, unpleasant position, Yongguk woke up. Stretching, the book on his lap tumbled to the floor and his hand knocked into the shelves of the aisle he had fallen asleep in, his legs crossed on the floor and back against the wood ledges and leather bindings that filled the room. The sun streamed into the window, bright and glaring and he realized he had fallen asleep and missed both Dinner and Supper the previous day. 

He picked the book up, slipped it back onto the shelf and turned to return to his room. He stumbled and looked down to find Jongup laying on the floor, sleeping, his face tear-stained and tired. Yongguk felt guilty seeing him there. He was most likely waiting for Yongguk to finish reading so that he could comfort him as had been happening more and more often. He wasn't sure who needed the comfort this time though, him or Jongup. His father had not been considerate, nor kind and Jongup had not deserved to hear a word of it, whether Yongguk believed he himself deserved it or not.

He leaned over, scooping his brother up, he stepped out of the aisle and walked out of the library, praying he would not run into anyone on the way to his room. Having made it safely, with no incident, he settled Jongup on the bed and changed, waiting to see if his brother would wake up or if he should leave him to sleep. 

As he waited, he finally allowed the events of the previous day to fully sink in. His father had compared him to Jongup and told him he was not fit to be king. His Father. The man who had held books above the sword and learning above force. He felt a physical weight settle deeper in his chest, one which had been growing each time his father became irritable and verbally vitriolic to him, one made of disbelief, hope that this was one huge, never-ending nightmare, guilt and disappointment both in himself and his inability to convince his father. He only prayed Jongup did not receive the same verbal attacks he dealt with.

He felt the tears well up again and clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a particularly loud sob, looking over at the bed to check if he had woken Jongup. He continued to cry, hoping to relieve some of the weight, but it only seemed to make it worse. He curled up in the chair, and just cried, the tears unstoppable. He missed his Mother and her gentle comfort, her whispered words of comfort when he used to come to her after a particularly hard problem arose and his Father's reassurances were not enough to help him. Now, it was his Father that was the cause, and he felt he had no one to help him.

Suddenly he felt a gentle hand on his back, rubbing circles and slow comforting patterns through the fabric of his tunic into his skin. Looking up, he saw Jongup, still a little sleepy, but there. His gaze was fixed on him, but he was silent, letting Yongguk finish before he said anything. Just like their Mother. It only served to make him cry harder at the memories. He clutched at Jongup, the rough fabric of his clothing grounding him as he began to finish and finally stop, hiccupping once in a while, and sighing as he calmed a little.

"Gguk?"

"I'm here Guppie. I'll be alright. Just.... stay with me for now?"

"Whenever and for as long as you need me. Promise. Just, don't ever let yourself cry alone again, please Gguk? I want to be your support."

Yongguk exhaled, nodding at the strength his younger brother was projecting. When had he become so self-assured and strong? It was not fair to him that he should have to grow up so much already. Yongguk felt he had failed him. He was so weak in comparison, crying just because his father told him he was lesser than his brother. Shouldn't he become stronger then? Shouldn't he be actively attempting to be better? And yet here he was.

His father was right, he was weak, he did not deserve the throne. The best he could do was step aside when the time came and let Jongup take his place.

"I can hear you thinking Gguk. Stop that. Right Now. He was wrong, and you know it. Don't even doubt that for a second. You never failed me. Who took care of me when Mother died? Who made sure I was happy, was still learning and training? Who ensured the country still ran smoothly, or at least with a semblance of smoothness? You. So, don't you dare think for one moment you failed or that I am better than you. I love you Gguk. Please don't do this to yourself."

Yongguk curled up a little smaller, shrinking into himself as Jongup spoke, folding his tall, thin frame in half. Jongup only held on tighter, wrapping his arms around his brother tight as a vice, refusing to let him go. He couldn't let the eldest fall. Not now. Not when he himself needed him.

They stayed this way until the growling of Yongguk's stomach reminded them that they needed to eat. Untangling themselves, Jongup clung to his brother's back, wrapping his arms and legs around him.

"Carry me? I'm too tired to walk." He whined, kicking a little as if to emphasize his statement.

Yongguk, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and tear stained cheeks hiding a grin, lifted him without a word and stepped out of his room. He walked down the hall and stopped at the top of the stairs letting the youngest down.

"You have legs Guppie. Use them."

"Fine." He pouted a little. Yongguk would usually carry him all the way to the dining hall, but perhaps now was not the best time. He sighed and started down the stairs following the Crown Prince. Observing his hunched shoulders, Jongup made a silent promise to himself. He was going to make his brother happy again. He resolved to.

Unlike the previous night's dinner, which Jongup had excused himself from on the pretense of being sick, this one was silent. His Father was glaring at Yongguk as his brother pushed his food around the plate, eating small bits here and there. At least there were no insults, no rages against him or long sermons on how lazy he was and how not to be like him, as there had been the previous night. Jongup was secretly glad Yongguk had been in the library instead of at supper. He need not hear his father call him a "Lazy Sot" on top of weak and unworthy. Especially after that morning.

Jongup frowned as he remembered waking up to the eldest crying. He had rushed out of the bed, tripping over the blanket and toward the chair and then, sitting on the armrest, settled his hand on Yongguk's back. Trying to remember how his mother used to calm them as children, he did the same. He wished he had caught him sooner. His hands ached a little from where he had gripped the sword too tight during his match with Junhong the day before, but he clenched them into fists and prayed he had been as gentle and comforting as he remembered her hands.

"You what?"

Jongup was dragged out of his thoughts by his Father's exclamation.

"I'd like to bring my treaty draft before your advisors in a council sir. I hope they can help me to see what I have done wrong and better write it so that you may accept it and present it to the Astreans."

"And what makes you believe they will have any different opinion? I still believe your terms are absolute rubbish. I will not have you wasting their time."

"Please Father. I just want to gain your approval."

"What approval? There is none to gain in this path Yongguk. Enough is ENOUGH." Their Father was roaring at this point, causing the servants waiting on them to cower a little as they hurried away from the table, eyes averted, and worried glances sent the Crown Prince's direction.

Jongup watched as Yongguk's shoulders sank further, his strength and spirit dwindling down further than he had ever thought possible. His brother who had carried the weight of the Kingdom and shouldered his younger brother's grief along with his own, his brother, who was one of the strongest men Jongup knew, was breaking into smaller and smaller pieces as Jongup watched. He felt helpless as Yongguk sat there, cowed by their father, before pushing away from the table, excusing himself with a break in his voice, and almost running from the room.

"You go too far Father. He just wants to help the people!" Jongup yelled at the King, surprising himself. He stood to follow the eldest, but a strong grip on his arm stopped him from going further.

"Sit." The steely edge to the King's voice warned him that there was no room for argument.

He sat, fidgeting with his fingers, pushing the food around his plate, ignoring what his Father said. All he could think about was his brother upstairs, alone with no one there to comfort him or help combat the demons his Father had created.


	5. Warning

Yongguk stared at the blank page, pen useless in his hand and mind blank as he attempted to block out that evening's events. Maybe he should leave. Disappear somewhere no one would look for him. But that was weak, running away from his problems, and he still needed Jongup, and Jongup needed him. He sighed, a headache slowly building behind his eyes as he forced himself to stop thinking and simply breathe.

Thoughts of his father and what he had said were overwhelming him in intensity and emotion. He finally slammed the reference book shut and dumped the writing utensils in their proper places. It was no use anyways, he could not think of anything but his father. He had no one to tell him if the drafts he wrote up were good and his father would simply ignore them. He stood, deciding he needed fresh air to relieve the tight, heavy weight in his chest.

As he walked toward the Chapel and its garden, a presence slipped up alongside him, and Yongguk turned to see Daehyun. His cousin flashed a tense, quiet smile at him and they continued on. Sitting on a bench hidden by trees and a hedge, Daehyun turned toward the Prince.

"Yonnie... is there anything I can do?"

"No. I just have to endure. I'll be alright Dae."

Daehyun frowned, "no you won't. You already are not fine. I'm watching you break and it's tearing Jongup apart." He didn’t add what he was thinking, “It’s hurting me too.” _I miss sparring with you, I miss our chats and our jokes… what happened to you and me?”_

He sighed, turning away from Daehyun slightly Yongguk whispered "I'm sorry. I'm trying. It's just that father isn't... I can't.... just... don’t worry about me Daehyun. Please."

"You're my cousin. I'm going to worry. Please Yonnie. I just want to hear too laugh easy again."

Yongguk smiled bitterly. Standing he shrugged at the General.

"That might take an eternity Daehyun. I'm going to go pray. Have a nice day."

He left Daehyun staring after him, shock and disbelief written in his eyes. Yongguk rubbed his face in distaste. He just wanted to relieve this weight, to let his brother and cousin stop worrying and to gain his Father’s acceptance again. Kneeling in the chapel, he leaned forward, forehead resting on his hands and started the comforting phrases of the “Hail Mary”.

About an hour later he stepped out of the chapel, glancing at the setting sun he sighed. He was not hungry at all and would rather skip supper. He turned toward the practice grounds. He knew Jongup would go there when he needed a release, and he thought to try it himself. Stopping on the edge of the grounds, where the shadows met the sand, he watched as Jongup and Junhong sparred, dancing around each other and exchanging blows. He felt a shift, pride? Sadness? A mix? Maybe Nostalgia for when he and Daehyun used to do the same? He sighed and slipped away, back up to his room. Maybe he could get a little more written on another draft. If Jongup worked so hard, then he could too.

Jongup turned. Wiping the sweat from his face, he scanned the edge of the yard. He could have sworn he had seen Yongguk watching from the shadows, but he was no where to be seen. He sighed and sat down next to Junhong.

“Was that your brother I saw on the side? Watching us?”

“You saw him? I thought it was wishful thinking.”

Jongup frowned. But if Yongguk had been there, why had he left? He could have joined them.

“Jong, you’re worried about him, aren’t you?”

The older boy looked over, “of course I am. He’s my brother.”

“No, you’re worried he’ll disappear. Like he’s going to break and the man you knew will be gone.”

He looked at Junhong, blinking hard, trying not to cry. How in the world had Junhong, fourteen-year old Junhong, Younger than him Junhong, known what he was thinking?

“You’re transparent Jongup.” He leaned over and hugged him, “if he does disappear Jong, don’t worry. I know you. You’ll search and put him back together, you won’t rest until he’s returned.”

The youngest prince cried, face buried in his friend’s shoulder. He knew Junhong was right, but he prayed he need not see Yongguk like that. If only his Father would see reason. He held onto Junhong, arms around his torso, his own shoulders shaking as he cried his fear into the younger boy’s tunic.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be ok Jong. It’ll be ok.” Junhong held onto his friend.

He knew they were both too young for this, he understood things he should not, knew the pain of watching as someone broke and being unable to do anything. He had seen his brother break almost as badly when he had been sent to study with a man who would act kind around the adults but insult him when he thought no one was watching. Junhong had been so confused at first as Junseo would come home despondent and sad, rather than the energetic boy he had once played with. Then he hid and watched one day as the man insulted his brother. He told his father and, after talking to the two siblings, his father had immediately expelled the man from their house and Junhong had been there as they did their best to rebuild Junseo. Now he whispered a silent prayer for the two siblings he had befriended, holding onto the youngest as he sobbed, watching the same emotions he had felt written in the youngest prince’s face and eyes.

“Junhong? Jongup? What happened?”

The youngest looked up at the general as he stepped onto the training grounds.

“Here, let’s get you inside before your father sees you Jongup. I don’t know what he might do.”

Lifting the prince, they hurried to Daehyun and Junhong’s quarters. Laying Jongup on his bed, Daehyun turned to Junhong as Jongup had cried himself to sleep. “What happened?”

“He’s scared Dae. He’s watching his model, his older brother, disappear, break apart. Like Junseo. He’s scared that he’ll disappear. I recognized that, told him I thought if it came down to it, he’d find and rebuild Yongguk though, because he’s that kind of person. I’m sorry. Was I wrong?” Junhong suddenly looked apologetic.

“No Jun. I’m glad you talked to him. I saw Yongguk today… He’s so much worse than I thought… he’s truly disappearing, he’s like a shell of the man I knew, fidgeting with his hands, can’t hold still at all, couldn’t look me in the eye, and then he wouldn’t talk to me... I don’t know what to do Jun. I feel like I’m failing even as I try harder than before. What did you do when Junseo was breaking as you watched? Breaking even as you and others tried to pick up the pieces and put them back?"

"We prayed Sir. Prayed and kept trying. That's all we could do."

Daehyun smiled sadly at the younger boy. He looked over at Jongup who was still sleeping. He knew he needed to wake him so that he could make it to supper, but he looked so much calmer like this, even with the tear stains. He sent Junhong to fetch a rag and water and then gently washed the Prince's face. Gently he shook his shoulder.

"Jongup. Cousin, wake up. You need to go to supper. Little as you may want to, you need to."

The Prince woke with a start, eyes searching wildly for something, before settling on Daehyun. He gave a small, tired smile and then immediately frowned.

"Where's Yongguk? Has anyone seen him? Father was horrible during Dinner, and I want to make sure he’s alright before I go to supper. I'd rather starve than leave him to suffer."

His cousin sighed before ruffling his own hair up and then looked at Jongup ruefully.

"He went to the Chapel a bit ago. I sat and talked to him before I saw you crying."

"He did stop by the training grounds, meaning I would guess he is done in the chapel. Perhaps he is in the Library?" Junhong was quiet, thoughtful.

Jongup sighed, gripping his head with both hands and then rubbing the heels into his eyes as though to rid them of the remaining fog from his impromptu nap. He looked out the window wishing that things were somehow easier, that he and his brother could be normal, although, what was normal? A supportive father and a happier, less broken older brother. He knew Supper was soon, but he wasn't sure he was ready to face his father again after his outburst earlier that day. He huddled further into the bed while Daehyun tugged lightly at him.

"Uppie, you need to get up. I'm serious. What will Uncle Yongsu say if neither you nor Yongguk is there?"

"He won't care if Yongguk isn't there. But I will go. Simply because at least one of us needs to go and I'd rather it was me. I know he won't insult me." Jongup’s expression was tight, eyebrows drawn together and mouth a straight line. He gripped Daehyun's blanket tight before releasing it and standing. "Thank you Dae, Jun. I'm going now."

“Ah Jongup, before you go,” Daehyun reached out and held onto his cousin for a moment, “Your Father sent me on a mission. I leave tomorrow. I don’t know who will replace me in the meantime, but I wanted to tell you before your father did.”

Jongup nodded, though his shoulders had tensed and then he was gone.

He slipped into the Dining Hall and hurried to his place at the table where his father was already seated. He tried to ignore his Father's gaze and raised eyebrow, but he knew that it was almost impossible. He waited, praying his father would allow them to eat soon so he could excuse himself and leave.

"Where were you? With that good-for-nothing boy?"

"Yongguk?" Jongup was appalled," he's your son Father!"

"And a useless one at that."

"I'm done. I no longer want to eat."

"You are done when I say you are. Sit back down Jongup."

Jongup stared back at his Father for a few moments, both determined not to lose to the other. Finally, he sat down. He refused to eat anymore, and stared defiantly at the king, who, satisfied that his son had listened, was continuing to eat and drink.

He left supper that night with a full plate and a sad heart. He went to sleep, already wishing Daehyun was back from his trip and hoping Yongguk would be alright.

The following two months were agony. Yongguk avoided his father and Jongup like the plague, spending more and more time in the library, huddled over books and whispering to himself as he made notes. Jongup trained with the guard, hardly giving himself time to rest of breath as he practiced his swings and strokes and labored over studying tactics and history, talking with Junhong and praying for help. He waited for his older brother to reappear from his self-imposed library exile, but the days passed with no sign of the oldest prince, except at sporadic meals and once in a while when he would go to check on him and try to gain a response, and no Daehyun to ask advice of.

Yongguk had done well avoiding the King, but he lived in the same castle, and he still needed to eat to live. Slowly his Father became even more acidic and spiteful toward his first-born and the man simply bowed lower beneath it. Books were his solace and best friends now, although sometimes he would think he heard a soft, melodic voice comforting him from the stacks of the library, only to realize he had been dozing off, or he would see a lithe, younger form hurrying toward him, asking about practicing and cuddling with him only for him to believe he had fallen asleep. He rubbed at his face. He needed fresh air, he needed to breath. First though, he would finish his current chapter, his notes slowly filling more paper as he forged on.

“Jongup? My boy, what are you doing? Stay out of that room, it is filled with nothing but nonsense and unnecessary ideas.”

The youngest prince stood outside the library, having finally decided he was well and truly sick of seeing nothing more than the hunched figure of his brother reading or the beaten down man who finally decided he was hungry enough to eat. This time he was going to drag his older brother out and force him to sleep in his bed and then he was going to make sure Yongguk did nothing but rest or practice with him the next day. He refused to allow this self-destruction any longer.

“No. Yongguk is killing himself in there and all you care about is my sword training. I refuse to let him.”

“Jongup. Do as I say.” The King’s face had darkened, furious at the boy’s disobedience.

“No” Jongup pushed through the doors, slipping into the stacks before his father could follow him, leaving him to rage at the closed doors uselessly, unwilling to enter a room he now abhorred.

He was at wits end. He had switched sections of the library, praying to find something to help him overcome this massive block, this mountain his father had constructed between them. If his father would never accept his peace treaty, perhaps he would at least accept his son. Here in the dusty old stacks, there might be an answer. He just wished he knew where to look. He sighed before finally pulling his knees up and resting his face against his folded arms.

He was so tired. So ready to have the whole ordeal be over. But it would never be over with his father unaccepting of anything to do with his eldest son and so he cried. Tears of frustration and hurt and anger. They did nothing to relieve the constant weight in his chest, the weight he was accustomed to now, although no less Discomforted by it. It was like an anchor, dragging him down, down into the unknown terrifying depths and recesses of his mind. Down into places he'd rather stay under lock and key, places he had not known existed in his mind until they had opened up and swallowed him whole.

Yongguk was a drowning man, with no way to call for help.

Finally, he gave up. He slipped back over to his usual section of the library, candle held in front of him, and nearly tripped, as his boot met a soft, warm object. Looking down, the flicking flame cast orange shadows over Jongup's face, highlighting the tear tracks and deep purple beneath his eyes. He was breathing a little erratically, having only just cried himself to sleep and shivering at the lack of blankets and warmth.

The eldest prince felt a prick of affection and immediate guilt. His brother had most likely been looking for him and not finding him in his usual place decided to wait. He wished he was better. The boy deserved a better role model. He was sure. Someone who did not break simply because their father told them no.

He crouched, setting the candle down, he slipped his hands under Jongup's head and legs and lifted him, candle in the hand holding his legs up. He carefully began to make his way through the shelves praying he wasn't jostling Jongup too much. He wanted him to sleep, he needed it.

The door swung open and Yongguk looked up from Jongup's face, only to meet the King's grim expression, jaw set, and eyes narrowed. He was frozen. What was he supposed to do? He could not very well run away, but Jongup was becoming heavier and the candle a little warm in his hand. He tried nervously to edge along the wall out of his Father's glare, but the king simply followed him.

"He should never have been in there. That room is useless, with useless books and even more useless people."

Yongguk's heart dropped for a moment, a feeling he chided himself for. He should be used to this biting tone and the derogatory words by now, "I think he was looking for me Father. I'm sorry, I'm taking him to his bed now."

"And who's fault is that? Do put him to bed though, he needs to be well rested. The boy has been far too distracted, no thanks to you."

The Crown Prince inclined his head to acknowledge his father before pushing on his brother's door. He felt a hand, grip strong, vice like and painful, grab his arm, stopping him.

"Don't let him become a weakling like you. Stay away from him with your useless ideas and repulsive ways. You hear me?"

Yongguk couldn't look at him. He was crying, and he did not want this man to see it, to realize he had broken him. He simply nodded and ripped his arm away, setting the candle on the bedside table and settling Jongup on his bed. He closed the door and sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking at his brother, thinking, trying to figure out what he felt, what he should do. Sighing, he drew the blanket up and turned, planning to leave the room.

For the second time that night he felt a grip on his arm, holding his wrist, but this time, it was a gentle grip, more to ask him to stay than to force him to stop.

"Don't go Gguk. Please don't. He's wrong. You won't make me weak. Please don't-- don't go." Jongup’s voice was quiet, soft and it broke at the end, tears threatening to fall.

Yongguk was torn. He knew his father was right, but Jongup said he was wrong and wanted him to stay. He so desperately wanted to believe his brother, but he was too deep into his own mind, too doubtful and anxious. He stood, hesitating, until it was decided for him when Jongup pulled him the rest of the way down and onto the bed, wrapping himself around him like a vise. He buried his face in his older brother's shoulder and tried not to cry.

"Don't go Gguk. Please don't leave me ever. I can't lose you. I Love you."

"I love you too Guppie. Just give me time, ok. I'll do my best. That's all I can promise."

Satisfied, Jongup snuggled closer, gripping tight around Yongguk as his breathe evened out and became deeper. His brother sighed, knowing he could not leave without waking the youngest. He settled in, deciding to allow his exhaustion to take over and let Jongup's breathing lull him to sleep. He would figure out what to do tomorrow.


	6. Breaking Point

Jongup woke, still holding onto Yongguk. He was reminded quite clearly of another time he had woken this way, holding onto his brother before he had woken with a nightmare. He tightened his grip, praying that Yongguk would be spared a second such dream. He was warm, solid, and yet, he felt as if he was slipping through Jongup's fingers like the sand of the practice arena. He hid his face in Yongguk's shoulder, still holding on tight before he heard a whisper.

"Guppie? You're crushing me..."

"Ah! I'm sorry!! I'm sorry Yongguk! I didn't mean it Ggukie!" Jongup all but jumped away from his brother, tangling himself in the blankets and almost tumbling from the bed.

"I know. It's alright."

Yongguk had rolled over and was facing him completely now, his smile was tired. His smiles were always tired now, but it was a smile and Jongup would take it for what it was worth. His eyes looked distant and Jongup frowned. He hugged Yongguk again, just to reassure himself he was there, at least in body, if not spirit.

"Gguk?"

"Yes Guppie?"

"Could you train with me today?

His brother jerked away a little as if he remembered something. He rolled out of Jongup's grasp and slipped out of the bed.

"I'm not even supposed to be around you Jongup. Father will be furious!"

He was almost shaking at this point and Jongup wanted to cry. He clambered out of the bed and wrapped himself around Yongguk again. He was not going to let him alone.

"Stop hugging me so much Guppie, I don't deserve it, nor does father want me around you."

"I don't care, I'll stay like this, like a leech!! Father can't separate us Gguk. Not ever."

Yongguk smiled a little. One day would not hurt, right? Just one more day with his brother, and then he would distance himself. That was it.

"Alright Jonguppie. But just today ok? And then I need to work on my own tasks."

Jongup smiled. He felt a slight sense of victory now and went to switch tunics. He was not letting Yongguk go anywhere alone now and followed him as he went to his room to change his own tunic. He sat on his bed, and as soon as his brother was ready, grabbed his hand and lead him from the room, down to the training courtyard. They stepped into the armory, finding Junhong going through the equipment as he had been trained. Jongup smiled brightly at him before turning to his brother.

“Swords and shields, just swords, something else? You’re choice Ggukie!”

“Sword and Shield. I haven’t practiced with a shield in forever Guppie.”

The youngest Prince was almost vibrating with excitement at this point, moving from shield to shield, trying to pick for both himself and his brother. Finding the usual practice blades and two shields, he moved over to where his brother was speaking to Junhong, listening to him talk about the sword he was cleaning and his training’s progression. He was smiling faintly and Jongup was glad that his friend could engage his brother like that. He waited for Junhong to finish what he was saying and then motioned for his brother to follow him out onto the sands.

“Here Ggukie.”

Jongup handed him the sword and shield and then settled himself into his stance with his own equipment. Slowly they circled until Jongup made the first move and stepped forward, swinging up and over the shield. Yongguk lifted the corner of his shield and blocked it, bringing his own sword in from the side while Jongup was busy recovering from his blocked strike. Skipping nimbly out of range, Jongup covered his side and then leveled his blade, faking a jab at his brother’s knees before bringing his sword around the side. Yongguk swung his shield up and to the side, stepping into his next strike, swinging for Jongup’s unprotected sword arm. They continued until they were sweaty, and tired and neither could swing, parry or raise a shield to protect themselves. 

“Thank you Guppie. I’m sorry that I’ve not been the best role model. I Love you.”

Jongup hugged him sweaty body and all. Yongguk felt more solid now, more present and he was so very happy. Yongguk hugged him back, eyes closed tight, and a sigh of relief escaped his throat. Jongup tightened his grip, tears welling up that he could not explain. Suddenly, the air became tense before Yongguk was ripped back and came face to face with his Father, purple with rage.

“I told you! I _told you! Stay Away! Do you call **THIS**_ —” at this point, the king was shaking Yongguk, holding him by the tunic, one hand wrapped in the fabric and the other pointing at Jongup, “— ** _STAYING AWAY?!_** ”

The youngest prince leaped forward, sword and shield forgotten in the sand, grabbing his father’s free arm and pulled, trying to separate him from the oldest. He was desperate. It was not Yongguk’s fault! He had convinced him to come practice with him, when he had been reluctant.

“Father!! It’s not Yongguk’s fault!! It’s mi—”

“ _Stay out of this Jongup!”_ The King shoved his youngest son away, causing him to stumble back and fall with a cry, landing hard, crying as he held his wrist where the King had wrenched it in shoving him away.

“ _You see? You see what you’ve done? You’re **POISON** Yongguk, poison to **him**. You make him WEAK!_”

A slap sounded then, ringing out across the sand, hard and fast. Yongguk’s hand flew up to his cheek, a red mark left where the King’s hand had made contact with his face. Shock was written in his eyes and Jongup stilled from his attempt to stand and stop his father. Daehyun who had just returned from his mission and had paused in the training grounds on his way to report, was frozen on the edge of the practice ring. And still the King continued.

“ _Are you even listening?! You waste of space! Get out of my sight! Get away from **my son**! Stop **POISONING MY HEIR**!_”

Yongguk stumbled away, pushed by his father, and then turned, almost running from the courtyard. Jongup made to follow him, but the King turned to him, face already much calmer, but still angry.

“You, what were you doing with him?! You stay away from that man _. I **refuse** to allow you to become like him._”

Daehyun stood torn between following the brother who had been hurt or the boy who was now facing his father. His decision was made for him as Jongup screamed back at his father and took off toward the armory, angry tears streaming down his face.

“I HATE you!!”

The general followed him, his heart heavy as he thought of the oldest who was hurting possibly more than the youngest right now, but who was so distant Daehyun was not sure he could ever reach him. For now, he would try to comfort the youngest. Reporting would have to wait.

He found Jongup curled up, crying in the corner of the weapon cluttered room, Junhong hovering over him, trying to provide comfort, but unsure how to do so. He turned helplessly at the sound of Daehyun entering. His eyes lit up in recognition, but his expression remained forlorn and worried.

"I'm not sure what to do Dae. What happened? He's never cried like this before. I... I don't know how to help..."

A look Daehyun had never seen on Junhong's face, eyes lost and searching, as if he would find an answer in Daehyun's own, mouth downturned as he worried at his lower lip with anxiety, told him just how upset Junhong truly was. Resting a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder, the general motioned for him to stand behind him for a moment. He leaned over and settling a comforting hand on Jongup's head, asked, "Jongup? Cousin? Come here."

Jongup turned, almost flinging himself at the older man.

"I don't understand. Yongguk deserved none of it. NONE of it!! Why is Father so cruel?!"

His cousin simply held him, reminded again of his young age, and waited for the tears to stop, or at least dwindle. He found himself wrapping Jongup tighter in his embrace, cocooned in the safety of his arms. He wished he could protect him better, but how to do so, when the attacker was the victims own Father and King?

He was so tired, so lost and so afraid. He knew his Father was right. He had hurt Jongup, his very presence had hurt Jongup. A memory came to him, of when times were a little brighter, far in the past when his Mother was still alive and Jongup still a child.

_“Yongguk! My boy! I noticed you’ve changed. I haven’t heard a single report of missing desserts or snacks from the kitchen and very few whispers of your adventures. Are you alright?” The King looked at Yongguk, patience layered with concern in his eyes, and a smile on his lips._

_“Yes Father. I just… Jongup is copying me now. I know I used to sneak around, and Jongup used it against me in an argument a few days ago. It didn’t feel right. I want to be a better role model for when he grows up.”_

_His Father laughed, deep hearty chuckles rumbling up from his chest and filling the room._

_“Alright Gguk. I should have known. I’ve had reports of his escapades. He’s quite agile, climbed down the ivy outside his tutor’s window yesterday. I’m glad you’re trying to set a better example. You love Jongup very much, don’t you?”_

_“Yes Father. More than I can say.”_

_"Good. Study hard, practice hard, and one day, you shall make a fine, wise King.”_

_Yongguk hugged his father, letting the warmth and security the man radiated spread through and engulf his wiry frame. He promised himself then he would do all he could to obey his father and meet his expectations. He would protect Jongup and be the best role model he could._

And now? Now things were different. He knew, without a doubt, that he needed to leave. If not for himself, for his brother, the boy he had sworn to protect and care for when he was younger. Yongguk sat on his bed, plan formulating as he rubbed at the mark his father's hand had left, sure it would bruise. He sighed, he knew he would have to wait to leave if he wanted to avoid his brother following. He could slip some food from the kitchen and some servants' tunics from the laundry and then he could take his horse and go, late at night when everyone was asleep.

He supposed if he was leaving so late, he should sleep, so he curled up, drawing the blanket up and over himself, eyes closing and breathe evening out. Just a short time, and then Jongup would be safe from him. Safe from his poisonous influences.

He was woken by the sound of his door swinging open, a shuffle and a small hiccup like someone who had been crying for a while. Yongguk knew without opening his eyes it was Jongup. He was seized with a sudden fear, a knowledge, that if he talked to him, if he allowed himself to have a conversation and essentially, say goodbye to Jongup, he would never leave, he would stay here, and his brother would remain unprotected. So, he stayed asleep, forced his breathes to remain even and eyes closed as he felt his brother's approach. It ached, his chest constricting as he pretended, to feel Jongup so close and know he would never be permitted to see or talk to him again. But it was for the best, after all, once he was gone, there would be no more opportunities for Yongguk to corrupt, to hurt, to… poison him.

"Ggukie?... I... I'm sorry. I knew... I knew Father did not want you around me... are you awake Gguk?"

Yongguk struggled, he wanted so badly to hug him. He remained still and asleep though, his mind racing as he felt Jongup examine him. Finally, he gave in and opened his eyes, unable to stand it as he felt the younger boy begin to move, presumably to leave the room. He couldn't let their last interaction be the ruined practice round, his father's rage tainting what should have been a happy memory.

"It's alright Guppie." Jongup startled, standing at the end of the bed, obviously heading around to lie down in the free space Yongguk had left on the right side of the bed. "I chose to go down there with you. Come here. I need you right now."

He lifted an arm, his blanket lifted with it, warm and inviting, although it was Yongguk's eyes, tired and lonely, that Jongup could not tear himself away from, going to him, arms wrapping around his brother and face buried in his chest.

"Jonguppie.... this is the last time we can do this. You know that, right? I can't be around you anymore, Father is right."

He felt him tense, felt the argument rising up from Jongup's chest, indignant and hurt. Yongguk simply hugged him closer, squishing Jongup's head against his shoulder, sentence cut off and a squeak of surprise coming out instead. He returned the hug, holding on tight, even if it felt like his brother was smoke and slipping through his fingers, dissipating with the gentle wind created by their breath. He pushed the thought down and simply held him tighter.

"I love you Guppie. I'm sorry, I really do love you."

They lay there, neither falling asleep and Jongup wondered. Wondered why he felt as though this was the last time, like he would never get to hear that deep bass tone or see his brother's warm brown eyes staring back at him. Wondered why he felt as though his world had fallen apart with the creation of a gaping hole, an absence he could not imagine, and had not happened. He wondered why this felt like Good-bye. He wondered why he felt as though Yongguk was gone.

Finally, Yongguk heard deeper, even breaths coming from Jongup, and could feel him relaxing, his body growing just a little bit heavier as his mind relinquished control. He waited a few more minutes, to make sure his brother was asleep, and then slipped from his hold and out from beneath the blankets. He stood, watching him breath, his face smoothed out and frown gone. Yongguk prayed he was doing the right thing. He just did not want Jongup hurt. He settled the blanket more securely around the youngest prince and then slipped out of his room.

He had his signet ring with his emblem, the sign of his lineage, the only thing he planned to take with him from his life now. He slipped it into a pocket, glanced back at his door, the door behind which his brother still slept and paused. He could turn back. He could go back in, slip back beneath the blankets and sleep, hugging Jongup, the most precious person to him. He shook his head. It was now or never and Jongup needed him to leave.

He hurried down to the kitchen, nodding at a few soldiers on guard along the way and grabbed a few loaves of bread from the batch the cook had left to cool overnight. He placed them and an apple or two in the small knapsack he had grabbed from the laundry when he had retrieved the servants’ clothes and slipped out to the stables, in search of his horse, Orion. He slipped into his stall, saddle thrown over his back, and a soothing hand feeding him carrots and rubbing along his nose and neck. Once he had it cinched, he swung on, still in his Royal tunic. He would ride a way away, change and hide his old clothes. He had no desire to keep them, but to see a servant taking the Oldest Prince's horse? The guards would never let him past.

He was anxious, heart pounding as he came closer to the gate, closer to leaving Jongup and all he had ever known and loved. The weight in his chest seemed to grow, but he pushed on. He was doing this for Jongup. He could not stop now. He rode through the gates with little incident, the men on guard having caught sight of his ring which he had slipped out of his pocket in the stables. He rode a little way before he got to the edge of the trees he was always seeing from his window. He glanced back, the castle small in the distance, his home disappearing the further he rode, and turned, riding into the forest. He entered the forest as a Prince, but he would leave it, a peasant.


	7. Lost and Found

He had been walking for days now, possibly even a week. He had kept Orion the first week after he had left, before he realized that he was not the most obscure animal owned by the royal family. He could most possibly be recognized and subsequently found if he kept him. It had hurt to let the second to last connection to home he had go, the ring being the first, but he had slipped off the horse's back, knapsack in hand and watched the beast leave. Now a week later (or was it truly a week? Yongguk could no longer tell, all sense of time gone) he semi-regretted it. He was thirsty, hungry, sore, tired and lost. He had gone where his feet led him and now he lay against a tree, watching the sky through the branches.

He wondered if Jongup was doing alright. If he was practicing. If he was sleeping or eating well. If perhaps, unlikely as it was, if he was looking up and seeing the same sky. He let out a dry laugh.

Turning he tried not to think about the empty, painful feeling of his stomach, the dry, chapped and cracked feeling of his lips as he tried to lick them to add some moisture, just so they would not be so painful. It only served to make them sting more. His body felt so heavy and he was so tired. He wished he had accepted the old couple's offer to let him stay a few extra days on their farm. They had been so kind to give him some of what little food they had and help him on the road, he had not wanted to impose on them anymore. That had been a few days ago and he had not seen anyone since. He sighed. He supposed this might be the end.

He closed his eyes. He was thankful for everyone, his family, his friends, the people who had tried to help him as he ran from his home. He was apologetic, knowing that Jongup would most likely be looking for him. He only hoped that someone found him before some hungry beast did, and then sent him home to rest beside his mother and sister.

He looked at the sky one more time and then closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost instantly, unaware of the distant sound of footsteps and a voice, singing in its native tongue as it approached where he lay hidden by the bushes and the trees.

Youngjae walked along, singing as he went. He was finally allowed outside, dark hair ruffled by a passing breeze and footsteps leading him to a patch of fresh Rosemary he had found about a week ago but had been unable to return to until now. He could not wait to gather the fresh herb and make some stew or some such food with it. He ignored the two soldiers shuffling behind him footsteps dragging as they followed at a distance.

Hakmin and Taeseon would rather be anywhere but here, most likely practicing with their fellow pages and squires, but their Prince had sent them out to protect his friend and protect him they would. Their eyes followed the man as he sang nonsensical words, stopping at times to mutter about some plant or rock or, as he liked to call them, "specimen" as he wandered. They groaned as Youngjae stopped yet again before a yell startled them and they were rushing forward to help him however he needed.

He had thought the man dead at first, tripping over him as he made to pick some of the thimble-berries on the bushes around the strange man. Looking closer Youngjae realized he was still breathing and cried out, called the two soldiers closer, panicked at how shallow and drawn out the breaths were. His face was sunken, large, dark purple circles beneath his closed eyes and his lips were cracked and dry. He was muttering unintelligible words as he slept and Youngjae motioned for the two soldiers to lift him.

"Take him back to the castle please. I want to examine him and make sure he is alright."

He watched the soldiers stumble away, the man limp between them. He winced as they jostled him about and he called for them to be gentler. He was not sure what had lead this man to be out here in the woods, but he was determined to ensure he was alright. As they reached the horses, which they had left in a sunlight filled clearing, Youngjae got a better look at his clothing, the tunic strange and unfamiliar. It suddenly occurred to him that this man may not be Astrean as he had originally assumed, and he wondered if he should be worried. One look at the stranger’s sallow cheeks though and any doubt about the need to help disappeared.

Once they made it to the castle, Youngjae had the soldiers carry the man to his room, adjacent to the apothecary. Once he was settled and made as comfortable as possible, he sent Taeseon to request Himchan’s presence and Hakmin to get him some supplies (He swore that he heard Taeseon mutter something about the Prince not liking this to Hakmin, but he elected to ignore it in favor of taking care of the stranger). He was in the middle of wrapping the man’s head, covering some minor scratches and cleaning an abrasion on his cheek when he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

Himchan stood in the doorway, running a hand through his dark, sweat soaked hair, his face a little tired, but he smiled in greeting. He had just been practicing when Taeseon had run into the arena, scaring Himchan until he told him that Youngjae wanted him. Youngjae leaned back against the bed, almost as if to hide something. Himchan glanced behind him and frowned.

“What did you bring back Youngjae?”

“Herbs? Uh, some thimblebe- “

“No, no, who is that? The man behind you? Why is there a Natiorian here?”

“Uh…. Well….”

Himchan pinched his nose, sighing. “Just once, could you bring back something normal? I can understand the herbs and the berries and whatnot. The snake was disgusting, but tolerable and the puppy was cute. But how in the world did you still manage to one up yourself and bring us a Human?”

By this point, his tone was sarcastic, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Youngjae pouted, relaxing into a seated position on the floor. Himchan still kept a watchful eye on their guest but laughed as Youngjae tried to defend himself.

“Hey!! I liked Joko, he was cute! Especially for a snake!”

“And Mato?”

Youngjae did not answer as movement from the bed caught both their attention. The stranger groaned a little and Youngjae hurried to grab the cup of water he had waiting for when the man woke.

“Here, drink slowly sir. I found you in the forest. Are you alright?”

The man drank quickly, slowed only by Youngjae gripping the cup. Himchan watched, waiting for a chance to speak. As the man finished, he stepped forward, prepared to say something, when the stranger suddenly pitched forward, retching onto the floor, the water he had just swallowed coming back up with the bile. He was shaking and as Youngjae felt his forehead, Himchan felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“He’s burning up Channie! You can ask him questions later, right now the only one that matters is his name, and then I’m going to care for him.”

It was impossible to argue with his friend when he was like this, so Himchan sighed and nodded. The man had obviously heard them and, as Youngjae wiped his forehead off with a cloth he had dipped in some water Hakmin had brought him, he seemed to be trying to concentrate, eyes barely open, but focusing as if trying to figure something out.

“Yon-,” the man’s voice was a whisper. Himchan would not have known he had said anything had he not seen the man’s lips moving.

“What? I’m sorry sir, I didn’t quite catch that.” Youngjae’s tone was gentle.

“My name…. it…. It’s Yon—” the man slumped, having utilized any energy he had still had trying to tell them his name.

“Jae… is he going to be ok?”

“With a lot of care Chan, I think so. But I don’t know how dehydrated or starved, or what have you, he is. The fact that he just regurgitated everything I just gave him is not a good sign. And then he passed out… I’ll probably have to stay here at all times if possible for the next few days, possibly even a week, maybe more. I have no clues, no information, nothing. The most I can do is try to get some water into him, slowly and then food. At least, that’s my plan. There is more to it, but it’s obvious you don’t understand. Don’t try to say you do, I saw your eyes. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Yon here.”

“Yon?”

“The man.” Youngjae shrugged, lifting a rag he had produced from who knows where and dampened, and placing it on the Natiorian’s forehead

“Oh”

Himchan stood silent, watching for a while longer. Finally, he sighed turning toward the doorway.

“Just don’t go insane from being cooped up, okay Youngjae? I’ll come by every day to keep you company and check on our friend, ok?”

His friend nodded, too focused on his patient at this point to acknowledge him further. He hardly noticed the Prince leaving and considered his options to get water and food into the man before him without causing him to retch. He turned, and with yet another cloth he had dipped into the water, he dripped some of the liquid onto Yon’s partially open, dry and cracked lips, and into his mouth, hoping this would work. He continued, time passing slowly and yet impossibly fast, ignoring the soldiers rotating in and out. Hakmin, Taeseon, Jisung and others he had had as guards before were now assigned to guard both him and his patient but still, he focused on Yon, praying he would survive.

The fever reached its peak two days after Youngjae had found the man. It honestly frightened the Apothecary, as Yon sat up, muttering to himself before crying out, begging his mother to forgive him, reaching out, his eyes, dull with sickness looking at someone Youngjae could not see, and that he had no other choice. The soldiers rushed in hearing the cries, but found Youngjae holding Yon, a fresh, cold cloth on his forehead and a gentle hand rubbing circles on his shoulders where he could reach as the man laid there. They sighed with relief before leaving the two in peace again, and Youngjae listened as his patient mumbled still more before he was silent again. He gave him more water, dripping from the rag into the Natiorian’s mouth and wished he could wake the man. He knew it had to be in the Yon’s own time, but that did not prevent him from still wishing he could.

Shaking his head, he stood and stretched. Himchan stepped in then for his daily visit and Youngjae smiled tiredly at him dark circles under his eyes and the twinkle that usually resided there dimmer than the Prince could stand.

“Jae, go lay down. Rest a little. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“But Yo—”

“Go. I’ll watch him and wake you if anything changes or happens. Promise. Just go sleep.”

The younger man nodded and laid down on a cot he had on the opposite side of the room. He was out seconds after and Himchan sighed as he watched his friend’s forehead smooth out. He knew very few people liked him, finding him strange and possibly even crazy, but he wished they understood Youngjae the way he did, saw the intelligence and fire that burned in his eyes when he spoke about the healing and herbs he was so passionate about. Shaking his head, he turned to look at the Natiorian. He could not understand how the man came to pass the boarder and end up so close to the castle. He was half afraid he was a spy, but if so, how had he let himself get so sick? So close to death? He was a mystery and Himchan wanted to figure it out.

For now, he would let his friend, and the stranger sleep.


	8. Loss

There was something wrong. Something horribly, terribly wrong. Jongup knew it before he even opened his eyes. The absence of warmth from his side, the space his brother had occupied just the night before, was cold and uncomfortable. He sat up and glanced over, frowning. He tried to ignore the worry he felt, the sense that something was wrong. He waved it away as the aftereffects of a nightmare, the wispy remains of a dream. Yongguk was simply in the library, as usual, never mind that Jongup usually woke before him.

He got up and readied himself for the day. He determined to go practice. Yongguk obviously had wanted to be alone, so Jongup would wait a while before searching him out. Ignoring the growing apprehension and niggling worry at the back of his mind that perhaps he should search now, he walked down to the practice arena, greeting Junhong and smiling at Daehyun. The latter started them right away, and Jongup kept focused on the training until finally, he was let go. He waved good-bye to both, the apprehension back and gnawing at the base of his neck, gripping his stomach in tight coils of worry.

He sighed, squaring his shoulders in front of the library. He just needed to see Yongguk and his anxiety would drain away, like water. He slipped in, weaving through the shelves before he finally came to his brother’s usual spot, empty, cold and lifeless. Jongup froze. He had been worried, scared even, but Yongguk was not here. Maybe he was in a different section. Jongup circled the library, anxiety spiking with each step and the absence of the eldest. Finally, he spun, sprinting back the way he had come, out of the Library, toward the Chapel, praying he was out there. He stopped. Maybe he was back in his bedroom. He turned, indecisive before he ran into Daehyun, almost knocking him over as he went. 

His cousin held him, hands on his shoulders “Jongup? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“Gguk! Where’s Yongguk? He was there in bed last night and now he’s gone and… and… and” Jongup was gasping for breath, having stopped far too fast for how quickly he had been running and anxiety causing his chest to constrict painfully as he shook his head, eyes searching and wild. “I need to see if he’s in the Chapel or his bedroom. He wasn’t in the library. If he’s not… Dae… if he’s not…. Where is he? Where’s my brother Dae?”

He was crying, and Daehyun held him, keeping a wary eye on the passing servants. He led him to an alcove, hidden from the view of passersby. His heart hurt to see his nephew crying so hard. He had cried so much already, so often within the past two days even, and none of it for himself. All because the King was a selfish, grieving man who had lost his grip. While Jongup finished crying, Daehyun resolved to retrieve the Apothecary as soon as he helped Jongup to find Yongguk. The King needed help and, other than the Priest, a healer seemed to be the only way.

“Let’s go check to see if he is praying now Jong. If he’s not in the Chapel, we can check his room, alright?”

A quiet nod and they were off whispering in the chapel, glancing into an empty, cold bedroom, scouring every possible room he could be in. The more they looked, the dimmer the light in Jongup’s eyes became. Daehyun watched as his posture seemed to shrink, arms crossing, holding themselves as if to keep him from shattering. Daehyun himself was beginning to worry, there were not that many places Yongguk might go here in the castle. Finally, they stopped at the stable. Jongup cried out, pointing to an empty stall.

“Orion! Where’s Orion?”

“Ah,” Daehyun breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps Yongguk was only out on a ride. He tried to tamp down the ever-rising apprehension in his throat, as he tried to convince himself as well as Jongup, “he’ll be back soon Jong. I’m sure the crown prince simply took Orion out to clear his head.”

“No way Daehyun. He wouldn’t have. This is Father’s doing, he sent him away. He had to of!”

“Sir? If I may, the Prince left late last night with his horse, Orion and as you can see, he has not returned.”

“See? I told you! He would never leave otherwise, not when he promised me he would stay! I’m going to talk to Father now.”

Jongup turned on his heel and was about to storm out of the stables, steps determined and expression dark, eyebrows and mouth downturned in anger at what he perceived as his Father’s doing. Daehyun grabbed his wrist, holding the young prince in place. He shook his head at him.

“Not now Jongup. You are in no mood to do so.”

“I don’t care. I need to. I need to know where he sent him, so I can go get him back. You,” Jongup wrenched his arm away from his cousin,” won’t stop me. I have to Dae.”

He was running then, out of the stable, across the courtyard and back into the castle in search of his father, anger and desperation fueling his footsteps. Servants stepped away and toward the walls as he ran through the halls, barely acknowledging them, too intent on finding the King and righting the wrong he had committed. Finally, he found him, sitting in the council room, seemingly waiting for his advisors. Jongup stopped panting.

“Why? Why Father?”

“Why what my boy? You must be more specific than that.”

“Why did you send him away? All he wanted was your _Approval_! But you couldn’t even give him that! You hate him so much you had to take him from me. Why? Why did you have to?”

“Who? Yongguk? I did not send him away. I simply told him to stay away from you.”

“Then why is he gone? Stop lying, I know you did it! You sent him away! Where? I’m going to bring him back.” Jongup stared at his father defiantly, stance a mirror of the one he had seen Yongguk use when he was preparing mentally to defend some point in an argument or opinion he held, feet apart, shoulders back and back straight.

“I swear to you Jongup I did not send him away.”

“Fine! I’ll find him, with or without your help. You’re no Father to me anyways. _I hate you_!” 

He turned to run again and found Daehyun standing behind him, expression sad and gaze looking over his cousin’s shoulder at the King. He sighed before rubbing a hand through his hair, the gesture tired and defeated.

“Sir. Please, just tell Jongup where Yongguk is. We need to bring him back. Please.”

"I only told him to stay away. I never told him to leave. Daehyun, what is all this about? I know Jongup is attached to that man, but this is a bit excessive and ridiculous, don't you think?" The King spoke to the general as though his youngest son were not standing right there.

Daehyun shook his head.

"We are serious sir. Yongguk has left. He took Orion late last night and has not returned. I'm sorry sir, but your oldest son has left. And if you did not send him, then no one knows for where."

Color seemed to drain from the King's face a little as what his nephew told him truly sank in. He sagged a little in his seat.

"I'm going to find him and bring him back. You have no say in this Father." Jongup looked at him defiantly, but the object of that gaze seemed to not have heard, eyes clouded and thoughts far away.

He turned on his heel, rushing the rest of the way out of the room, Daehyun following behind. As they made their way away from the council room, Jongup swiped at his face, tears silent and furious. Finally, he stopped outside his bedroom, expression heavy and shoulders sagging.

"I'm so tired right now Dae. I think, I'll lay down."

Once Jongup had stopped, he felt the fatigue rise up like a wave to greet him. He felt the emotional outbursts, the training and the search that day all came crashing down at once. He leaned against the door as his cousin nodded his approval and then slipped through, closing it and curling up beneath his covers.

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Daehyun stood outside the door, knowing his cousin was most likely already asleep, knowing he was in pain. He did not understand. Why had Yongguk left? He knew the man had promised Jongup to stay. He had heard the youngest Prince speak of this promise with relief in his voice. Yongguk had never been one to break a promise, and now, for the first time, he had and Daehyun could not understand at all. He sighed and walked to his own dorm, feeling a slow headache building.

He flopped onto the bed, dagger out and his hands fiddling with the handle, thumb rubbing over the family crest in the hilt taking comfort in the ridges and changes in the surface. Memories surfaced, bringing a smile to his face as they played out before him, memories of a time when Yongguk was once again on the run, but for such different reasons and within the walls of the castle instead of lost in the world.

_Daehyun stepped aside for a moment, resting as his teacher instructed another. A flash of movement from one of the doorways caught his eye and he stood to follow it, already guessing who he would find. His nine-year old cousin hovered just on the edge of the door, back to the wall, having obviously run from his tutor. Daehyun cleared his throat._

_"You need to do a better job of hiding you know. I saw you as soon as you got here."_

_A short shriek and a fierce glare that subsided into recognition and sheepish happiness met his warning and Daehyun smiled._

_"How much longer before I get to train like you Dae? I want to be strong like you and Dad!"_

_A soft, warm chuckle from behind them and Daehyun looked up to see his uncle watching them._

_"You still have much to learn Yongguk. Remember, Though the sword is mighty, he who wields it must be wise, and what better way to learn wisdom than by studying? Your cousin himself had to study everything as did I. If you wish to be like us, stop trying to give your poor Instructor a heart attack every time you disappear." The warning in the king's tone was softened by the smile in his eyes and on his lips as he reprimanded the Prince._

_"Did you find him?" The Queen smiled softly at her errant son before turning to Daehyun, "thank you. I know he idolizes you and his father. I just wish he'd be patient about his training."_

_Daehyun laughed lightly. "I look forward to training with him. He's eager to learn and that's half the battle."_

_His aunt and uncle smiled at him before turning with his cousin in tow and he watched them walk away before he heard his own instructor call him back. Laughing he returned to the ring._

Sighing he sat up and moved into the living room pulling out a paper and an inkwell and pen.

For a few hours all that could be heard was the scratch of pen across paper until Daehyun finally sat up, stretching his back and glancing over the list. He nodded. Tomorrow, he would call a select few soldiers and head out on a search for Yongguk. The fewer people who knew the better and the men on his list were all good, trusted men who could and had kept many a secret. Of course, he would have to talk to Jongup, tell him to stay home. They had already lost one prince, no need to lose another, but he would deal with that in the morning.

Yawning he collapsed into bed. Tomorrow, he would search for his cousin, find him and bring him home.


	9. Awake

Gentle breathing, followed by a hitch as someone shifted, filled the room in which Yongguk opened his eyes. Looking around, he found himself in a smaller, wooden room, mattress stiffer than he was used to, but more comfortable than the ground he had fallen asleep on. His body ached all over, but his attention was on the man dozing next to his bed, head leaning forward, eyes closed and mouth puffing out gentle breaths. His black hair was tousled, and he looked as though he had just come from sword practice. His clothes however, were what truly had Yongguk’s concentration, as he tried to place the Hanbok before realizing it was a _Hanbok_ , which meant he was in Astrea.

The man next to him jerked, shaking himself as though shaking off a heavy cloak or blanket. His eyes landed on Yongguk and he lunged toward a cot Yongguk had not noticed before.

“Youngjae! Jae! He’s awake! Yon’s awake!”

“Mmm, what? Channie… five more minutes?... WAIT! Yon’s up?!” the other man seemed tangled in the blankets, scrambling to get up and tugging at the offending material in an effort to free himself.

Yongguk frowned. Yon? Oh, they meant him. How had they decided to call him that? He glanced up at the two men who were currently looking at him expectantly. He realized they must have asked a question.

“I’m…” Yongguk stopped at the dry, gravelly sound of his own voice, throat seizing up and mouth itself rough and papery. He coughed a little, a dry rattling sound that had the man who had been sleeping, reaching for a full cup close to the bed and offering it to him.

He drank quickly, grateful that he had been found by kind people. Silently he handed the now empty cup back.

“I’m guessing you did not hear us the first time. It may take a little longer for you to get back to full strength, you were extremely feverish and delirious when we found you. Ah, also, this is Himchan, Prince of Astrea, and I’m Youngjae, his friend and an Apothecary.” Himchan rolled his eyes beside Youngjae as he continued, his face a mask of amused resignation, “Who are you?”

“My name is Yong…” Yongguk stopped again, considering, before he continued, “Yongnam. Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry I was a burden. Is there a way I can make it up to you?”

The two Astreans blinked at him, Youngjae looked confounded and Himchan confused and a little wary. He spoke, his voice quiet, but commanding, his questions making Youngjae frown in disapproval, though he went largely ignored.

“He offers his help free most of the time Yongnam, as he is funded by the Crown, thank you for offering to repay him. But, I have a question. How did you, a Natiorian, make it past the borders, this far into my Kingdom? How do you know our language? You wear obviously simple clothes, but may I assume you are of a more noble heritage, considering your knowledge? How am I to trust you, when you are dressed so, and yet obviously know more than is above your station?”

Yongguk slumped a little, realizing he had so easily slipped into Astrean, though he had not meant to. He considered. He could tell them, he could explain everything, but how to make them believe that he was in fact the Crown-- no not the Crown Prince-- but the oldest son of a deranged King? That he had been attempting something his father hated, until he himself became a danger to those whom he had been trying to protect? They may not believe him, but he needed to leave some truth to what he told them. He settled, shoulders slightly hunched, and eyes closed.

“I am the son of a noble, one I would rather not name. I began to pursue an idea that he did not approve of, resulting in me endangering my brother. My idea, my father told me, was weakening him and so I left. I left to protect my brother.” Yongguk still had his eyes closed, his posture curled in and defensive.

Himchan and Youngjae observed him a moment before the prince pulled his friend outside, lips pursed and free hand ruffling his hair in his agitation. Youngjae knew that Himchan was doubtful, that he was trying to decide what to do. He figured Yongnam was harmless, but he knew that his best friend was wary, for example -his guards on his trips to the forest- and he most likely was not sure how to read the man in question.

“Jae, I don’t like this. He just randomly pops up in the forest? Yes, he was sick, yes, his story sounds sad enough, but, I’m not entirely sure I believe it all. Spies are trained for this kind of thing.”

“Chan, I’m sure it’ll be okay. He seems nice enough and I have your boys to guard me. I doubt the man can do much in the state he’s in. I promise if he does anything funny I’ll tell you. Alright?”

Himchan still looked skeptical but nodded.

“He’ll need to eat. I’ll send food with the next shift of the guard. Is there anything specific you’d like?”

"Bread. That's all I believe he can stomach at the moment."

"Alright. Be careful Jae. Please?"

Youngjae watched Astrea's Crown Prince leave before heading back into his quarters to talk to Yongnam.

He found the Natiorian laying in the bed eyes forward, staring at nothing. His breathing and overall appearance was more normal now, but there was still a hitch to his breathing. A ragged cough ripped from his chest as something seemed to catch at the back of his throat, which was probably still dry despite Youngjae's best efforts to try to rehydrate the man. He was forced to sit up and clutch his chest while Youngjae hurried forward and filled a cup with the rest of the he water from the jug he had beside the bed. He held it out to Yongnam, smile gentle and welcoming.

"Feeling any better?"

"Yes and No."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Youngjae laughed a little as he set the empty jug and cup aside for whoever brought the food.

Yongnam looked confused for a moment, a frown crossing his face. His eyes suddenly lit with understanding and he stumbled to explain, his words a little garbled at first.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I meant I feel weak and hungry and thirsty still, but not as bad as before you found me." He did not add that guilt and confusion weighed heavy on his mind, seeming to crush him into the straw mattress he was laying on.

Youngjae nodded "that's to be expected. I will admit, I was not sure you were going to live when I first found you. I'll be trying to help you back up Yong. Actually, is it alright if I call you Yong?"

Youngjae looked hopeful, "or maybe Nam?" He smiled over at Yongnam as he gathered fresh bandages in preparation to check over and change the ones he already had on.

"I- I suppose?"

Yongnam looked like he couldn't decide whether to feel confused or happy or, and for a moment, guilty which confused Youngjae. He frowned a little before continuing checking all of Yongnam's bandages, gentle as he could be, but grimacing when Yongnam winced.

"So, Yong," Youngjae made an effort to distract him "how old is your brother? Did you have any interests at home?"

"I studied a good deal of the time, which is part of why I know Astrean so well. I find languages so interesting. And all the knowledge available in books is mesmerizing. If anything, I'll miss the library back at home. And J- my brother is 15."

There was a quiet, happy ghost of a smile that was gone as soon as it came on Yongnam's face. Youngjae decided to ignore the aborted name and continued with his care. He was silent, observing his patient now that he was awake. He had a million questions he wanted to ask this Natiorian. But he also decided that the man, more likely than not, had been through enough for the time being, and he would leave a good number of those questions to Himchan.

“Alright Yong, your bandages are fixed. I recommend rest. I’ll be here, but please sleep sir.”

Yongnam was already falling asleep as Youngjae spoke and he smiled before settling on his cot, preparing to watch over his patient as long as necessary.

Himchan sat down at his table, parchment and reports spread before him. His people were tired. They could not sustain this fight much longer. But neither could the Natiorians if the reports were to be believed. He rubbed his forehead tiredly, eyes closed and the building headache making him grimace. Maybe he should have said something to Youngjae, but his friend had been so preoccupied, it had hardly occurred to him to ask.

Which brought him to the most immediate matter. What to do about the stranger? He had obviously been trained, whether as a noble or a spy was yet to be determined. Either way, the Crown Prince of Astrea couldn’t very well abandon him. And what if he were a spy? It would be best to have him under supervision. Calling for one of his men, his apprentices, trainees and surrogate brothers, he turned and handed him instructions while also requesting bread and a fresh jug of water be sent to the Apothecary’s quarters.

Satisfied, he stretched and went to find his mother and sisters. He planned to speak to his father about the matter, but for the moment, he chose to relax with his siblings, enjoying the warmth and reassurance his Mother radiated.


	10. Searching

“No. I’m coming with you.”

Daehyun sighed as he observed his cousin, trying hard not to simply turn and walk away as he so desperately wanted to. He had had been arguing back and forth with Jongup for the better part of an hour and his men were waiting for their instructions. The Prince stood between him and the door, defiance in his face, eyebrows set and mouth a straight line, his shoulders back and arms crossed.

“He’s my brother Dae, I’m going to search for him. I’m coming with you.”

“Jong, please, you need to stay here and study. Please. Besides, I cannot protect you and search for Yongguk at the same time. Stop making this so difficult.”

“Please Dae. I want to help find him. I can’t stay here. I just can’t.”

“No. I’m serious Jongup. Please stop asking.”

The boy glared at Daehyun, his disappointment evident as he turned to the door.

“Fine. I’ll go find Junhong. At least he’s not a stubborn mule.”

The general watched the boy go and groaned. Why couldn’t Jongup see he just wanted him to stay where it was safe? Who knew where Yongguk had disappeared to? Who knew if there were Astreans, unlikely as that may be, where the man had disappeared to? Or perhaps bandits, assassins, spies. Any number of threats. Perhaps Daehyun was being paranoid, but they had already lost one prince, no need to lose another. He turned to leave, muttering all the way about foolish, stubborn boys.

His men were waiting for him, their horses saddled, and equipment gathered. He led them out of the gates and down the road before turning and addressing them.

“The eldest prince has gone missing. My cousin Yongguk. He left last night and has not returned. As I am sure the King shares my sentiments and wishes for no news of his disappearance to reach neighboring Kingdoms, especially not Astrea, every word of our conversation and your orders is to remain only among this group here. Understood men?”

A murmur of understanding was his reply and Daehyun continued.

“Jaehwan and Sanghyuk take the South, Taekwoon and Hongbin, take the North, Wonshik and Hakyeon I want you to take the East. I’ll be going West toward Astrea. Since I’m alone, it’ll be easier to remain covert. I don’t believe he would have gone that direction, but we cannot be too certain. I plan to start this from the castle, and then make an expedition of it in the coming days if we do not find him tonight. Ride as far as you can and make sure to search carefully. I wish to see my cousin safe and sound again…God willing.”

The men split off, riding in their respective directions upon the road, splitting off as the road itself split. He watched them go, apprehension and hope filling him. They would find him, he would not rest until they did. He did not see the figures slipping out of the castle behind them, their horses lead out and mounted. He turned to the West and rode, praying to find his cousin as soon as possible.

Jongup and Junhong rode to the edge of the forest. It had taken a lot of convincing, but Jongup was glad his friend had joined him in the search. They now sat at the edge of the trees, Jongup pausing to look back at the castle, a perfect mimicry of his older brother’s actions the night before, though no one knew it, before plunging into the trees. He and his younger friend would do their utmost to find and bring his brother home. Yongguk had made a promise, there was no way he would ever break it. His older brother never would.

As he road, Junhong watched his friend, worry clear in his eyes. He had only agreed to come because he knew Jongup needed time outside, away from most other people. As he was watched the older boy’s horse reared, head thrown back in fear and eyes rolling, Front hooves pawing wildly at the air, mouth open in a whinny of terror. A Snake had slithered across their path and was gone as quickly as it had come. The damage had been done however.

The young prince was thrown into the bushes and with a thunder of hooves, Noir was gone. Junhong lept from Rose, hurrying to help the Prince onto his feet. He stopped when he noticed that he was staring off into the bushes, tears in his eyes.

“Are you alright Jong? Jong?”

The Prince had stood and was making his way through the undergrowth, face grim, eyes set on some point ahead of him. Junhong had a sinking feeling as his friend crouched before standing with a bundle of clothing in his hands. The rich color and quality of the fabric itself told him all he needed to know as Jongup clutched at them as though he were drowning.

“Jun… Jun… he did break his promise… He broke it and left… What… Why… I don’t know how to… This is Father’s fault! If he hadn’t hit him, insulted him…”

Jongup could barely speak, his voice raw with tears and emotion, his worst fear confirmed. He simply sat down and hugging the clothing to his chest cried, cried for a broken promise and the brother he had lost with that fractured pledge, cried tears of anger and betrayal, knowing his brother had only left because their father was cruel to him, tears of guilt because he had been unable to stop what he now saw as inevitable. Junhong could do nothing but stand watch over his friend. At some point, Noir had made his way back to them and now Junhong, after checking over the saddle and bridle, lead him over to the mourning boy.

“We need to go Jongup. You can’t stay here. We need to return to the castle.”

“Junhong? Jongup?”

Daehyun stood there, reigns for Mato in hand. He caught sight of Jongup, sitting on the ground and immediately stepped forward, reprimand on his lips before he noticed the clothing and closed his mouth with an audible click. Silent, unchecked rage started boiling up in his chest, the undeniable truth that the King had driven his own son, his own heir away stealing any semblance of calm he had had. He resolved to speak to the King and request strongly for him to visit an apothecary. “No” was not an option. First things first though, he had to get the youngest Prince back to the castle. Silently he handed Junhong the reigns to his horse before crouching and lifting Jongup and settling him on Noir. Turning he climbed onto Mato and Junhong followed on Rose. They were silent all the way back to the castle.

After going through the gates, Daehyun lifted Jongup off his horse still clutching Yongguk’s clothes to his chest, still crying although far more subdued. He nodded at the stable boys to take the horses and put them up in the stalls with Junhong’s help before climbing the stairs to the young prince’s room, guiding the tired and emotional boy. He settled him onto the mattress, gently pulling the fabric bundle from his hands and shaking it out, settling the tunic and pants in front of the fireplace. Turning he drew the blanket up around Jongup who had cried himself to sleep, curled into the center of his mattress. 

The General slipped out of the room and hurried in search of the King, one goal in mind: Stopping his Uncle before he destroyed the lives of his family and Kingdom any further. He finally found the King surrounded by his advisors in the Council chambers. Silence reigned as they all watched the General stride up to the sagging King, who had obviously not recovered from the previous news of the morning, footsteps fueled by his anger.

“You—” Daehyun’s voice shook with barely controlled emotion, “You drove your own son, your eldest Prince, your _heir,_ out-- out of the place he once called home and into the wilderness where he may very well die.” Daehyun threw down the garments he had taken with him after his departure from Jongup’s room, “You drove your youngest son to desperation and guilt in chasing out your eldest and now you simply sit here among your advisors as though nothing has happened?! YOUR HEIR IS _MISSING_! AND YOU DO _NOTHING_. Yes, the War still rages on, but what about the very war you have been waging here, with yourself, your grief and your sons?

“Please, you are not well Uncle. Please, I beg of you, see an apothecary. You are sick, and it is tearing your family and country apart.”

Daehyun finally took a breath. He stared down at his Uncle who had drawn himself up and who’s face had slowly reddened and then purpled with his own anger and humiliation at the accusations and implications of what Daehyun had said.

“Imbecile! You come into my council chambers, crying about how it is my fault that my son is weak willed and unable to stand criticism and then blame me for the weakness of my other son. You are a fool and a liar. I cannot and will not have you here to further poison my remaining heir and I am making good on my previous threat. Junhong is well due back home. You will accompany him and there is no need for you to return. If we so much as hear of your return I promise there will be a Squadron sent to meet you, and it will not be friendly.” The King’s steely glare and commanding tone rang through the room and Daehyun stiffened.

He had known the King would not take kindly to what he had said, but to be exiled? He had not quite considered that possibility. He gnawed at his lip, opening his mouth to try to convince the king, before one look told him to simply maintain his peace. He bowed and stepped out of the room, mind racing with all he would need to accomplish and make ready before he left.

He hurried back to his quarters, thoughts of the Queen’s dagger and his cousin circling. The boy would be alone after he and Junhong were gone and the thought that something he himself used to calm himself may work equally well for the boy, especially with the news that it had been something his mother had given Daehyun. Nodding, he continued to pack away his belongings, knowing that he could not carry them all to Latrosia. Junhong came in at one point, but Daehyun was so deep into his worries and thoughts that he did not notice. The boy seeing what the general was doing slipped back out and to his own room, his own preparations beginning.

Finally Daehyun had done enough that he could stop and sit back for a moment. Junhong heard his muttering cease and came into the room, a question in his step and frown wrinkling his forehead.

“He sent you away didn’t he. To Latrosia, my home, right?” Junhong shuffled a bit, worry still hanging off his thin frame, “It’s because of Jongup and Yongguk isn’t it. Will Jongup be ok alone do you think?”

The general sighed, before standing, the Queen’s dagger clenched in his fist as he made his way out. “I have to talk to Jongup Jun. Just… pack up and give me some time? We leave as soon as both of us are packed and prepared.” Daehyun stepped out and away from their quarters, making his way to the youngest prince’s room leaving his protégé to watch him, a sad light in his eyes.

“Jong? You awake?” Daehyun crept in to the room, sitting on the edge of the bed.

The curled-up form of his cousin beneath the covers reminded him of just how alone the boy would be. He gripped the dagger tighter and reached for where he assumed his shoulder was.

“Jong? I need to talk to you. I also have a gift for you. Please Jong.”

Just as Daehyun thought he would have to leave the dagger on the bedside table, the youngest prince turned over, slowly pulling the covers down. His hair was disheveled, eyes puffy and red underlined with a deep purple, his exhaustion and disappointment leaving their marks on his face. He slowly sat up before all but collapsing into Daehyun.

“Dae… why?”

“Jongup, I’m sorry, I… I have to leave too. Your Father is sending me away. He’s sending me to Latrosia with Junhong. I…” Daehyun stopped a moment and then pushed past the lump quickly growing in his throat, “I have a gift for you Jongup. I know it’s not fair that you’ll be alone... so… I…. I’m sorry about Yongguk Jongup. I am, so sorry…. I… I know this won’t make up for leaving and it may not even truly help, but… but here. My dagger. I know you and Junhong have seen me fiddle with it at times when I am stressed or worried. It was a gift from your mother and… and I want you to keep it for me, until I come back.”

They were both openly crying again, Jongup almost crushing his cousin in a vice-like hug repeating a litany of no’s and you can’t’s as Daehyun finished speaking. Daehyun set the dagger on the cover and hugged him back, knowing he had to leave and unsure of when he would be able to do so again. Finally he let the prince go, holding him by the shoulders and forcing him to look him into his eyes.

“I am sorry Jongup. You know I would not leave if it was my choice, but your father, he just… Jongup, promise me, that you’ll wait, that you won’t let this break you. Please. I’ll come back as soon as I am able. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Something had changed in Jongup’s eyes, the tears were still there, but there was a hardness to his eyes, fury, an emotion Daehyun had rarely seen so pure and undiluted on his face, hidden deep within. Jongup gripped Daehyun in a hug one more time and then swiped at his eye before picking up the silver dagger, tracing the gold crest with his finger.

“I’ll do my best Daehyun.” His voice was so quiet, Daehyun felt a chill at the iciness that had bled into his tone.

He gave Jongup a final hug, standing to leave, he turned back for a moment. “I truly am sorry Jong. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

He slipped through the door, leaving the youngest Prince with a fury burning in his heart and staring down at the last reminder of his cousin and by an extension of the giver, his mother. God only knew how long it would be before either saw the other again.


	11. Nightmare

Himchan sat at his desk, thinking. It had been almost a month since the Natiorian Noble had been found by Youngjae and he was still unsure of the man’s intentions. Of course, he had not had much time to prove himself as the first two weeks had been spent in a coma and the last two Youngjae had been slowly nursing him back to a more robust health. What baffled the Astrean Crown Prince was the fact that his best friend had become even more defensive of the man in the time he had been nursing him and would not speak of very much of what the stranger had said.

He sighed. He knew Yongnam needed watched at night for some reason undisclosed by Youngjae. His friend had been working himself to the point of exhaustion, burning the candle at both ends, perhaps giving him a break and letting the man have a full night’s sleep while he watched over the Natiorian would do the Apothecary good. He supposed he could wake the Apothecary if necessary, but Youngjae needed the sleep.

Nodding to himself he stood and slipped out of his chambers and made his way to the apothecary’s complex. He murmured a hello to his men before he stepped into the small kitchen and wrinkled his nose at the sharp and pungent smell of the various herbs and plants his friend had drying or dried about the place. Hearing murmuring coming from the bedroom, he tapped the sill and waited for Youngjae to realize he was there. Turning the man smiled at him but then continued to replace the bandages he had wrapped around Yongnam’s arm.

“Make sure not to fiddle with these again. You came far too close to another infection and you’re already sick enough.”

The tone the man had said it in made Himchan laugh at the familiarity of it. He had been scolded enough by his friend to be more careful as he wrapped up minor scrapes and bruises. And now it was Himchan’s turn to protect and scold him.

“Youngjae, can I speak to you? Please?”

“Sure Channie,” Youngjae looked up distractedly as he continued to finish checking over the remaining bandages, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Himchan nodded before stepping out and over to the kitchen table, clearing a small space before sitting on one of the two chairs set in front of it. He smiled as a ghost of a voice scolded him for not being more careful climbing the tree and to make sure he visited every day, so his cut didn’t get infected. An answering spirit muttered about being overprotective and let out a surprised cry as the other memory smacked the back of his head, and then laughter. Himchan shook his head, how foolish he’d been and now look at them, the roles were completely reversed.

“You wanted to talk Channie?”

“Yes. I had a request Youngjae. I know you haven’t slept properly in a long time. Allow me to take your place and watch over Yongnam? I’ll wake you should anything major happen.”

Youngjae’s face closed off for a moment, something Himchan could neither name nor understand hidden in his eyes. He looked down for a moment, hands fidgeting with one of the sage (at least Himchan thought it was sage) bundles on the table.

“I- “the apothecary hesitated before clearing his throat,” I’m not sure. Yongnam… he might not like it and—”

“No, Yongnam is the stranger here, he does not get to make the rules or decide what he does and doesn’t like, and I swear Jae, I don’t know what he may have said to you, but I don’t—” Himchan’s breath hitched a bit as the worry he’d had since the Natiorian had shown up slipped into his voice “I don’t want you to feel any regret or guilt for protecting him. Not only that, you’re killing yourself. At least let me do this. Please Jae. I just want to see you healthy again.”

Youngjae’s shoulders slumped a little before he squared them and turned to look the crown prince in the eye. “Alright, but _just_ for tonight. That’s it.”

He turned to leave the room, heading back to the bedroom, before turning again and in a much softer voice he almost whispered, “Thank you Channie. Really.”

After Youngjae had slipped back into the sick room, Himchan stayed a little while, playing with the leaves of some of the herb bundles as he thought. Why did this stranger fascinate Youngjae so much? So much so that he would keep secrets and be hesitant to allow his best friend, a man he had grown up with and told everything to, to watch over him in his place?

He shook his head and stood. He had some responsibilities to care for first before tonight and perhaps he would try to rest before he stayed up for his vigil.

Hayoung and Hyunwoo were on guard tonight. He tapped on the door sill as he entered, and he nodded at them as he went through the door to be met by the Apothecary.

“He’s asleep now. Hopefully tonight nothing happens, but those nights are few and far between so far.” Youngjae looked apprehensive. “Chan. Promise me something. If he starts to do anything weird, you’ll wake me up? Please?”

Himchan nodded confused, “strange how?”

“Just… strange.”

Youngjae wouldn’t look him in the eye, but Himchan shrugged it off, nodding at him.

“Alright.”

Finally, his friend led him into the room, where he had set up his own pallet against the wall and Himchan was hit with a sense of déjà vu. The first time the Natiorian Noble had woken, they had had a similar set up to this. He smiled a little before he settled into his chair and watched as Youngjae curled up under his blanket. He was out faster than Himchan had expected and he considered just how tired he truly must have been.

“Jae, why do you do this to yourself?” whispering, he turned to look at his charge and settled in for a long night.

_Yongguk smiled, giggling as his mother fondly ruffled his hair. He hugged her tight, happy and content to simply wrap his arms around her in a warm display of affection._

_"_ _Yongguk, dear, do you love your father?"_

_He sat up confused. Why would his mother ask that? She knew he loved him!_

_"Of course! I want to be as great as him some day!" He looked up at her pride shining in his eyes._

_"Then why," the room was dimming and slowly his mother was changing, "did you betray him? Why did you leave Jongup to fail in your place? You're a coward Yongguk."_

_He scrambled backward and away from their spot on the floor, terror growing in his heart as he watched his mother grow in height, eyes becoming lifeless and her soft smile a threatening grimace. Slowly her scarlet dress started dripping, the blood pooling in a metallic scented pool around her feet. He hit something warm behind him as he continued to scramble backwards and he looked up before screaming._

_Jongup stared back down at him, eyes shut, face pale and dead, a blade through his chest._

_"It's your fault Yongguk. You failed and now I'm this. It's your fault."_

_He curled up in a ball, crying as he denied it all._

_"I didn't mean to. I swear it wasn't on purpose. I'm sorry. I didn't want to. I'm sorry. I'm so-"_

_" **Yongnam**!!! Wake up!!"_

Himchan stood over the trembling man, reaching forward as though he were ready to shake him awake if simply calling his name did not work. He exhaled, dropping his arm and retreating back to his seat. He closed his eyes for a moment and then leaned forward.

“Are you alright Yongnam?” There was a gentler note to the Prince’s voice, a note Yongnam had not heard directed toward anyone but Youngjae. “You seemed terrified. Talk to me about it? That’s usually supposed to help, right?”

He looked unsure, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. He looked more open and trusting than Yongnam had seen him and he wanted to trust this man, trust him the way he had come to trust Youngjae. He knew he couldn’t outright tell him everything, he had hidden his status from Youngjae even, but he would tell him about the nightmare in some small part.

“I…. Will you trust me? I… you haven’t trusted me since I woke.”

Himchan nodded quietly, “it is hard to fake a nightmare bad enough to have you screaming denials and shaking in your sleep, harder still to fake being unable to wake from said nightmare. I still do not know your intentions, but I do believe something in your story from before may be at least somewhat true.”

Yongnam nodded, it made sense. Taking he deep breath he spoke.

“I… it was my Mother and Brother. You remember I was running to protect my brother?” Yongnam hung his head, closing his eyes and then opening them as closing them only made the memory of the dream and his brother and mother’s bloody forms all the more vivid and horrifying. “Well… They were both dead, killed by my actions, my father in the insane state he is in, through my fault, and they blamed me. Blamed me for his state, blamed me for her death, and failing to protect him. I failed them both horribly. I was a coward. I ran—”

A sob choked off the next words and Himchan reached forward in an aborted and unsure attempt to comfort the man. He desperately wanted to, but he knew little about him and was unsure of how he would react to the contact. He clenched his fist and instead watched the Natiorian cry into his hands.

“I doubt that is true. Nam, you were trying to do what you believed best for the one you loved. That takes courage. I know I have no place to say this,” he clenched and unclenched his fists, a nervous habit, “but I believe they wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. I don’t claim to know what you’ve gone through, nor what it must be like to have dealt with such trauma, but I do know, that if they truly love you, they can understand and they would forgive you.”

Yongnam was looking at him, eyes still wet, but quiet now and he smiled a little.

“You remind me a bit of my cousin. He was always so reassuring when we practiced together.”

Himchan seemed to contemplate something for a moment, “Your family seems so important to you, tell me about them a little?”

Silence reigned for a moment and Himchan was worried he had managed to overstep his boundaries. Although how he could think that when he had only just begun to trust this man escaped him. It was not logical to him and before he could think about it further, Yongnam spoke up.

“I can, not much, but well, there’s my cousin, he’s older by a few years. We trained together, sword fighting and studying. He was talented. But no one was more talented than my brother, he looked like a dancer the way he moved, graceful, swift, decisive,” Yongnam wore a fond smile, filled with pride as he spoke. “Swordplay was an art when he handled the sword. I could never come close.

“But then, that’s part of why Father started to dislike me. My brother was so much better, so much more talented than I was. I was a weakness, someone who did nothing to help him as I chose to focus on my studies rather than my swordplay and combat training. I knew our country was at war, but I chose to study and research instead of fight, believing I might find another solution. I—’

Rustling in the corner and a flurry of blankets as Youngjae sat up interrupting Yongnam, startled both him and Himchan who had become engrossed in the man’s speaking. He stood, stretched a little and then slipped across the room and settled on the bed next to Yongnam before leaning over and resting a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye.

“Yongnam, we talked, it’s not your fault. You should know this, we talked. Please, stop. Himchan, help me, tell him it’s not his fault. He’s constantly thinking it’s his fault.” Youngjae was obviously still a little sleepy, but he motioned at his best friend, “If he’d just accept that it’s not, perhaps that might be the first step to healing.”

The Crown Prince looked at him, surprised a little, still considering everything Yongnam had told him. He moved his chair closer, leaned in a little, reduced the distance between him and the Natiorian, he knew that Yongnam may not be comfortable with him, but he was still comfortable with someone being closer, as evidenced by Youngjae, and he did want to do something for this man who was so obviously suffering.

The Apothecary noticed his hesitation though he was still sleep addled and in much need of his bed again. He silently nodded his reassurance at the Prince, hopeful that the man would understand as he usually did and take a leap of faith for him. Yongnam was silently crying, leaning into the Astrean man’s hold and Youngjae curled his arm further around him as he watched his best friend slowly sit up, breathing in and mentally calming himself before he spoke.

“I—” Himchan began, voice unsure, but steady, “I agree with Jae here. From what you’ve said and what I’ve understood, it is not your fault. No one can control how someone acts or what they say. All they can do is try their best to weather the storm.

“Yes, there are sweat, tears, bruises and injuries along the way, but those are all signs of a battle fought, and in the end whether won or lost, we all need to keep trying. I know it’s not easy when it’s your own mind that you must fight, but maybe, given time and trust built between us, you’ll find shoulders to lean on and people to confide in.”

He stopped, slightly awkward, his face down and hands clasping and unclasping themselves as he waited for Yongnam or Youngjae to say something, He was still coming to trust this man, but he planned to make an attempt, further than he already had to get along with him and perhaps befriend him if his trust held. A quiet thanks made him jerk his head up before he cried out in surprise as Yongnam fell over the edge of the bed and into his hastily outstretched arms, exhaustion apparent on his face. Youngjae sat up, horror and guilt apparent in his eyes.

“I think it’s time for sleep Yongnam. If all that was holding you up was Youngjae and Jae himself looks like he is about to fall over, it is time to sleep. The same to you Jae, sleep. We can continue to speak in the morning?”

Neither protested, or perhaps neither had the energy as Himchan lifted the Natiorian into his bed and made sure Youngjae himself was truly laying down and had wrapped himself in his blanket. He retook his post, allowing himself to doze in the hopes that the rehabilitating man would not have another nightmare.


	12. Exile

Jongup moped about the castle for a few days after Daehyun’s departure, emotions warring constantly and sending servants scurrying out of his way once they caught a glimpse of his stormy face. With no one to turn to, he found himself in Yongguk’s room often, which only served to annoy him further. Finally, he found himself snuggled under the covers of the crown prince’s bed, turning Daehyun’s dagger over and over in his hands. He wondered when and why things had become such a mess. He just wanted Yongguk to achieve the peace he had so craved, and now their family was a ruin and the only support he had ever had was gone. 

He sat up, still clutching the dagger. A thought had occurred to him. His brother’s treaty drafts were hidden here, somewhere right? Perhaps he could continue what the older man had started, perhaps, if he accomplished such a task, Yongguk would come back. He shook his head of that thought. He knew that, though Daehyun himself was gone, his men were still looking for the Crown prince. He hoped they would find him before he had even finished what he wished to continue, why wish that by receiving approval for the treaty, he would bring Yongguk back, if he would already be back before this was accomplished? He nodded before scrambling up. If he was to put this plan in motion then he would need a draft and there were only two places Jongup could imagine his older brother hiding such precious writing.

He dug through the drawers of his brother’s desk, shuffling through the papers, in search of the familiar handwriting outlining plans for Peace and an agreement to end the war. Not having any luck in his search there, he slipped into his tunic and made sure Daehyun’s dagger was snug against his hip. He briefly considered wrapping one of Yongguk’s blankets around himself but decided against it as he was sure he would return to the room. He slipped out of the room and down the halls to the library. He tugged on the familiar handles, almost running down the aisles to Yongguk’s favorite before running his fingers down the spines of the books his brother had spent so much time studying. Finally he found the one he was looking for and pulled it out, whispering silent prayers beneath his breath that he would find at least one of the precious drafts.

With a cry of victory he held a thin stack of three sheets, ink smeared, tear stained and covered with handwriting as familiar to him as the hands that had spent countless hours perfecting them. He stared at them a moment, realization and the weight of what he was doing truly hitting him for the first time as he held the documents. Yongguk and Daehyun were really truly gone. This wasn’t some horrible nightmare he could wake up from by finding and working on Yongguk’s drafts. Besides the Crown Prince himself had spent countless hours on these only to face rejection time and time again. Jongup slid down the shelves to the floor, book open beside him and papers clutched to his chest as the enormity of his endeavor slowly seemed to crush the very air out of his lungs. He lay there for a while, contemplating all he was considering doing, hoped to do, before he finally shook himself and stood.

Yongguk had spent countless hours on these, but their father was not in his right mind and had rejected them out of spite. Perhaps Jongup could salvage his brother’s work, whether it brought him home or not. Still clutching the treaties to his heart he stepped out of the library, coming face to face with a pale, haggard king, eyes sunken, hair disheveled and grayer than ever, whether that was possible or not. The youngest prince stood for a moment staring into the lifeless stone brown of his father’s eyes. Neither moved for what seemed to be an eternity.

“He really did love this room didn’t he.” The King finally broke the silence, looking past his son at the worn wood doors.

“Why would you care?” Venom dripped from each of his words as Jongup stormed past his father, anger welling up at the thought that his Father should so suddenly seem to care for his missing oldest son, “you hated him for it.”

He didn’t see his Father’s shoulders slump, he didn’t hear the whispered “I know, and how I wish I could take it back”. He didn’t see the tears of remorse and the way his eyes seemed to age another decade as he contemplated all he had done. All the young Prince heard was the roaring in his ears, the anger and betrayal renewed at the sight of the man who had destroyed the happiness they had all once shared. All he saw were the words Yongguk had worked so painstakingly on as he rushed back to Yongguk’s room. Settling the papers onto the desk he threw himself across the bed as he mourned his brother, his cousin, his Father’s sanity and the loss of any sense of normalcy he may have once held onto.

Daehyun paced in the guest chambers that Junhong’s family had provided, worry gnawing at him as he thought about all he had left behind and what to do now. His men had strict instructions to continue searching and to report to Jongup, but it was for the Latter that he was concerned, knowing he no longer had a confidant nor a guide. He settled onto the bed finally, reaching out of habit for the dagger that usually resided on his belt before dropping his hands, remembering exactly where and with whom he had left it, his worry increasing tenfold.

A knock on his door and the familiar smiling face of his ex-protégé poking around the frame made him smile.

“Someone’s here to meet you sir. My Father would like to thank you for caring for me and speak with you about your future plans.” Junhong looked back a little, scuffing his shoe on the floor, “especially what you’ll do since Jongup’s alone.”

Daehyun nodded, smiling to let Junhong know it was alright and prepared himself to meet the man who had entrusted him with his son. Junhong’s Father stepped through the door, tall as his son but exuding authority and an air of gentleness. He smiled at Daehyun reaching out to shake his hand.

“It is good to speak with you and see you again after so long my friend. I wish I had had the chance sooner after your initial return with my son, but duty calls and needs must be met.”

“I understand Sir, thank you for providing this space for me. Everyone here is well I hope?”

“As well as they can be. And please, call me Junho. You are no stranger here and I wish to be treated as equals. Junhong tells me of the trouble back home,” the man’s face dropped a bit, a shadow of former pain and worry slipped into his eyes for a moment and was gone, “a far more personal trouble, but somewhat familiar in nature to my own family. I wish to offer my help, perhaps a way back into the country, perhaps supplies for your trip, anything to help you resolve your troubles and thank you for caring for my son. Everything we’ve said will not go beyond this household’s doors and my men. You have my trust young man and I hope that you choose to trust in me.”

The former general nodded in thanks, thinking as he considered what the man had offered. He wished to go home, but he also knew his Uncle was not one to easily forget promises, whether kind or threatening. He knows if his men were to be the ones to find him, they would help and hide him, but he cannot say the same for the other men serving in Natioria. They may respect him, but respect for the King is infinitely stronger with most of the soldiers. He turned to his benefactor.

“Please help me in whatever way you can. My King is failing in his duties as he struggles with his grief, no doubt Junhong has already spoken of this to you. Not only this, but as we fight the war, my country is quickly falling into ruin, the people are unhappy, and I wish to do what I can to prevent it. My first step should be to help the one who, considering the current situation, most likely will be the successor to the King and I cannot do that from here. Jongup needs someone by his side and while I know most anyone there would gladly help him, I worry that he has no one who really knows him as well as I. Call me conceited, but I worry. Please sir.”

“Gladly Daehyun. We can provide you with new unrecognizable horse and clothes that not only will make you nondescript but allow you to hide your face as well. Namely one of our cloaks and one of our specially made scarves, the hoods are deep and a scarf over the mouth and nose is not uncommon when one wears a hood here, especially at this time of year. It will help you blend in with the group I shall send to the castle with gifts to thank King Yongcheol,” Junho winked at him and Daehyun felt the hint of a smile cross his face. “I may even send Junseo with you.”

Junhong made a little noise at the back of his throat, surprise evident in his face as he looked at his Father, “is he truly well enough for that Father?”

Junho motioned to the door “see for yourself Junhong.”

As if by magic, an older version of Junhong stepped through the door at that moment. Junseo was taller than his younger sibling (how that was possible Daehyun did not wish to question) and his hair a darker shade of brown, but his eyes were the same, although more tiered and his smile had a similar feel, though quieter, more mature and cautious. He bowed a little toward his father.

“You called me Father? I am sorry I took so long to come.”

“Yes. Junseo, do you think that you are well enough, and able to join and aid our esteemed visitor in entering his home kingdom? I want to send you as an ambassador to Natioria now that your brother is finally back for good, rather than the short holidays he chose to take,” Junho glanced at Junhong who was looking at his feet and trying to hide a smile at the almost teasing tone, “and the King would still prefer someone from our family be present as a sign of good will. I won’t force you, if you decide otherwise, but I would be very happy if you agreed.”

“Of course! I know you still worry for me, but I believe I am well enough to leave at least for a while. I promise to come back if I feel the need.” Junseo smiled at his father, excitement at the opportunity presented him clear in his eyes.

Junho smiled “Thank you Seo.”


	13. Frozen

Youngjae watched carefully as Yongnam stood and walked between the sick room and his kitchen a bit while Himchan stood next to the entrance to his rooms. He had agreed to allow Yongnam out on a walk about the castle on the condition he could make it from the bed to the kitchens without assistance at least twice. Himchan would be accompanying them and Youngjae was glad to see that his friend was coming around and realizing perhaps this displaced noble posed no threat, but rather needed their help.

After a minute or two more the Apothecary deemed his patient ready and they, accompanied by the Prince, left the rooms, beginning to walk in the direction of the Palace gardens. Youngjae wanted to wander the garden, hoping to harvest some of the herbs he had encouraged there. After a short stop, they made their way to the Chapel at Yongnam’s request.

Kneeling in the silence of the Sanctuary, he thanked God that he had been able to help Yongnam so far and watched as Yongnam himself knelt, albeit a bit shakily, his lips moving in a silent offering of the familiar Ave Maria. He was grateful he’d found the man, but he also wondered about his past and if he would ever receive any answers. He shrugged. The man probably had a reason for hiding his lineage, especially considering that he was a Noble and the way his Father was acting was truly problematic. He sighed and stood, stretching a bit before he tapped Yongnam to signal they were leaving, glancing at Himchan who had finished his own prayer moments before.

They slipped out and continued wandering a bit before Himchan lead them toward the practice grounds, claiming he wanted to check on his men before they went back. He had become slightly more open to Yongnam in the time they had spent together and Youngjae smiled.

“By the way Yongnam, once you feel up to it, would you spar with me? I have fought on the frontlines of course, but I have yet to face a Natiorian Noble. It would be interesting to see how our styles differ.” Himchan smiled at the quiet man as they stepped onto the grounds.

The smile quickly disappeared as the man beside him suddenly became rigid, face paling while he began muttering under his breath as he stared straight ahead. The Prince frowned and looked in the direction Yongnam was, catching sight of one of his most adept trainees, Jisung, sparring with their newest recruit, Kangmin. He looked back at Yongnam again and then leaned in, curious what he could be muttering so diligently. He only caught a few words, “No…. left him….. not him…. No” he glanced over at Youngjae who looked equally as puzzled and far more worried then Himchan had originally felt. Stepping in front of Yongnam the Apothecary set his hands on his face, pulling his line of sight down and toward him.

“Yongnam? Yongnam, what’s wrong?”

The Natiorian only continued to mutter to himself, face still set in a look Himchan couldn’t quite decipher. It was somewhere between terrified, happy and guilty. Himchan reached out to the man.

“Perhaps we should take him back Jae. I don’t think I can carry him; do you think he should walk? Or should we pull and drag him if we have to?”

“No! Yes we’ll take him back, but we aren’t dragging him! If he can’t walk with some help you can easily carry him. I know you’re strong enough!” Youngjae glared at his friend, reproach and disbelief clear in his brown eyes.

Himchan shrugged a little before positioning himself with Youngjae at Yongnam’s side, reaching around and placing an arm around his waist, tugging gently they began to lead him away. The invalid shuddered violently for a moment before going limp, causing Himchan to stumble with the unexpected added weight. It was not that Yongnam was heavy, but he was once again shocked to realize just how light the man truly was. Youngjae slipped out from under Yongguk’s arm, coming around and facing the man.

“Yongnam?”

“I’m sorry.” Yongnam closed his eyes, voice so quiet Himchan wasn’t even sure he had said anything, “I’m so sorry. I just….”

“It’s alright. You needn’t explain anything. We’re going back to the rooms. Do you need help still or do you think you can walk on your own now?” Youngjae nervously shifted from foot to foot, voice gentle and quiet as he spoke to Yongnam.

“I… I need help. Thank you Youngjae, your Highness.”

They hurried back to the Apothecary’s home as quickly as Yongnam’s weakened state allowed for and settled him back into his bed. Himchan wanted to ask why what happened had happened, but Youngjae had warned him off for the moment and he knew he needed to join his Father soon as they were to have a council meeting and he wanted Himchan to attend in hopes of him leading one himself soon.

He said his good-byes, promising to return and then hurried out the door. Youngjae sighed as he watched him go. Turning he began to prepare a tea for Yongnam. He was in need again it seemed.

Yongguk tossed and turned. He had faked sleep to keep Youngjae from fussing over him just a little earlier and now he could not get the young soldier from earlier in the day out of his mind. He knew it was not Jongup. He knew for certain, and yet, the way he moved, the flash he saw of his face was enough to make him think for just a moment that his brother was there. And that had terrified him. He left to protect him. He couldn’t do that if the boy just followed him! Yongguk rolled back over. It wasn’t him so it didn’t matter anyways.

Thinking about it made him wonder yet again how Jongup and his Father were. The King was probably ecstatic, but Jongup? He must be devastated. He would move on, Yongguk was sure of it. He had to move on. For all intents and purposes, Yongguk was dead. In his place was Yongnam, a man similar enough, but so different and so far from who Jongup ever needed that he would remain hidden until the day God should decide it was his time.

He rolled over and sighed, trying to sleep, trying to close his eyes and welcome the sweet relief of oblivion, but nothing. He spent another twenty minutes trying, exhaustion slowly creeping further and further into his mind, clouding it, but still no relief came in the form of sleep. He was close to tears now, frustration mounting as he continued to attempt to sleep. He jumped as he felt a hand settle on his shoulder.

He turned to see Youngjae lifting the blanket, sleepily motioning for Yongnam to scoot over. He did, pressing himself closer to the wall confused until Youngjae began moving again and he watched as the Astrean climbed in to the bed with him, pushing Yongnam till his back was to the other man. He felt Youngjae’s arms wrap around him and suddenly it was like he was back at home, wrapped in one of Jongup’s warm hugs as they shared a bed. He really did cry then, feeling a weight he hadn’t realized was there suddenly lift.

“Go to sleep Yongnam. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I’ll talk about it in the morning, but you need rest, ok?” Youngjae’s voice was muffled against Yongnam’s back and creaky with sleep.

The ex-prince smiled and obeyed, finally relaxing enough to find the relief he so desperately craved.


	14. Apology

Daehyun and Junseo had set out a few days ago after sending word to the Natiorian court that the new ambassador for Latrosia was going to be arriving within the month. Junseo had selected a few men to accompany them and given Daehyun a new horse, had someone trim his hair to match the Latrosians’ usual military cut and outfitted him with a Latrosian soldier’s tunic, sword and kit. He smiled as he road, remembering the fight Junhong and his father had gotten in right before they left.

“ _I wish to go too Father! I am Jongup’s friend, I should be there for him. Not to mention, what if Junseo has problems? I want to help!” Junhong held a bedroll packed with what he needed, having barely unpacked it when they had first returned._

_“No Hong. I just got you back. You aren’t leaving so soon! Besides I wish to teach you.” Junho patted his son’s shoulder, smiling at him apologetically._

It reminded him all to much of Jongup’s argument with him to join the search party for his brother. He clenched the reigns harder thinking of the boy. He had to help him, but how? He needed to find a way without alerting anyone but the Prince himself of his presence. He was so engrossed in thought he did not notice as another rider drew up next to him.

“Master Daehyun? Are you worried?” Junseo was calm, quiet, but his voice still carried above the pounding of hooves and the wind whipping past them as they rode.

“Yes,” hesitation dripped from the words as the general glanced over at the young man beside him. “I am worried that I will be unable to help my cousin, unable to save what little I have left of my family. If the King should become aware of me, or Jongup not realize I am there, what will become of him? I do not want to see him as broken as Yongguk was. Not ever.”

“Don’t worry sir. There is a plan in place, trust me when I say that you will be able to alert Jongup to you and help him as you wish.”

Daehyun nodded and offered his thanks, his mind still preoccupied with doubts. He glanced around at the men as he and Junseo fell into a somewhat comfortable silence, thankful that they had been so willing to help him and keep his secret. He tensed a moment, as he continued to look. Something was off. He slowed a little before realization struck him and he picked up the pace again, waving off Junseo’s questioning glance.

They made camp a few hours later, talking and laughing as they ate around a fire. Daehyun kept glancing around at the group, double checking that he was right as he ate. He waved away the other men as they all prepared for bed telling them he would take first watch. As he waited for them to settle, he smiled a little. Finally the camp was silent, only the gentle, deep breathing of sleep could be heard with an occasional grunt or rustle as someone adjusted in their sleep. The General sat very still, watching the tree line. 

Then he heard it, the faint sound of leaves rustling grew closer and closer and then they stopped. Gentle breathing just beyond the fire light told Daehyun where the boy was and he beckoned him toward him.

“You can come out. I’ve known for quite a while. Your Father won’t be happy, but I suppose Jongup and Yongguk have rubbed off a bit on you, haven’t they?”

Shaking his head free of leaves, Junhong stepped into the circle of light created by the fire. “How did you know sir?”

“There was one extra soldier Junhong. Not to mention, you are taller and slightly thinner than most of the men and I have been training you for two years. If I did not recognize your form and stature, I would be a sorry teacher indeed.”

Junhong hung his head, scuffing his boot a bit in the dirt as Daehyun reproached him. He looked rather liked a scolded, kicked puppy. The general sighed before finally motioning for him to close the distance between them and join him on the log.

“I won’t force you to go back, especially as I would rather keep all the men together, but you must tell your brother you are here. You cannot continue to sneak about. It’s too dangerous for one, for two while I am letting you stay, your Father did not approve of you coming and if your brother sees it fit to punish you, I expect you to accept it without complaint.”

“Yes Sir!” The boy’s eyes had lit up with hope and surprise as the general had spoken, ecstatic he would be able to remain with the travelers.

Daehyun rubbed his hand down his face. The following days would not be easy, he was sure of it.

The Youngest Prince paced in his chambers, reading over Yongguk’s drafts again. He had made no progress as every time he read them there seemed to be very little he could possibly want or need to change. His frustration continued to mount as it truly hit him just how much the rejection of these drafts was influenced by spite. He dumped the papers on the desk, going to sit on his bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t Yongguk, he wasn’t a diplomatic genius, his cousin was gone and his Father… well he was avoiding his Father, still a little too angry to face him.

His thoughts turned to sword-fighting, and he stretched, wishing Junhong was there to practice with him. Of course other trainees and pages would be willing to help him, but he and Junhong had always been so evenly matched it took all he had to spar with his junior and it cleared his mind so much quicker. He slipped out onto the training grounds and grabbed a practice sword, wandering over to watch the other trainees. Of course his father had assigned him a new master after Daehyun had left, but Jongup had been avoiding him, not even the King’s order could persuade him to learn from someone other than his cousin. He stepped onto the sand as one of the trainees fell and motioned to the boy for him to oppose him.

Instead of swinging at him, the boy stopped, face shocked as he looked at the Prince.

“Your highness… shouldn’t… shouldn’t you be with your Father?”

“What?” Jongup was confused. What did they mean? His father was fine, probably even better than normal considering Yongguk was gone. The thought made him grip the practice sword harder.

“Your Father is very ill your Highness.” One of the trainers had finally noticed them standing on the field and come out to find out what was wrong. “He has been bedridden since yesterday. The physicians are unsure whether he will survive the week.”

“But…” Jongup’s heart dropped. Yes, his father may have been horrible to Yongguk, perhaps he was wrong, but he had been a good father for so long before he lost his wife and he could not deny he had held some hope of seeing that man return.

He dropped his sword and ran, already rubbing at his eyes as he tried to make his way to his chambers. He did not think he could face the King just yet, and Yongguk’s room would just make everything so much worse. He had already lost his Mother two years ago, his brother and cousin were gone and now, now he must come to terms with the thought that his Father could die and leave him alone. Alone to rule a country and support a people, a people who were beginning to resent them for the war. He couldn’t do it. He just could not. He continued to cry, tears soaking into his bedding as he struggled to contain his emotions.

A hand on his back startled him and he whipped around to yell at whatever maid had decided it was alright to be so forward. He skittered backwards on his bed, shock and disbelief causing him to reach for the dagger he had been carrying everywhere with him inside his tunic as he looked at his cousin, Daehyun, kneeling next to the bed before him, dressed like a servant, an apology already forming on his lips, eyes begging forgiveness and full of worry.

“You aren’t real. You can’t be. I” Jongup scrabbled for an explanation “I just wished so badly to see you, but I can’t because the King threatened you and now, I’m hallucinating. I’m finally as insane as my father.”

He laughed bitterly before he all but curled up into a ball on the bed, hugging his knees close to his chest as he willed the apparition away. Soft breathing and another gentle touch on his back, which turned into soothing circles was joined by a softer, but still familiar voice.

“I’m real Jong, I promise. Junhong’s brother Junseo helped me sneak back into the castle and up to your room. I’m sorry I was gone so long.” Daehyun’s voice shook a little as he spoke, regret and sadness laced into his words.

Jongup uncurled himself and flung himself onto the general’s neck, crying even harder as he realized that the man truly was back. They stayed like this for a long time, Daehyun refusing to make any move that would cause the youngest Prince to lose his grip on him, even when it felt like his knees would fall off and his legs didn’t exist. Finally Jongup sat up, rubbing at his eyes and pulled Daehyun up onto his bed, making an apologetic face as the man grimaced when the pins and needles from his legs waking up hit him.

“Dae… Father is dying. I don’t…. I don’t know what to do. Everyone in my family is leaving me. I don’t…” Jongup’s voice cracked, making the rough and ragged tone even worse, “I can’t do anything Daehyun, I can’t heal Father, and I can’t bring back Mother and I couldn’t stop Yongguk, not even with a promise.”

“Shhhhh, Jongup, you’ve been through so much. No child your age should need to experience all of this. I wish I could take your burdens.” Daehyun swallowed hard before continuing. “I think, at least for now, you should go see your Father. At least tell him… tell him Good-bye.”

Jongup slumped down even further, eyes shut tight as he fought off even more emotion. Silently he nodded and then, he stood, swaying a little as the exhaustion from his mourning tried to drag him back down. Daehyun reached out, steadying him. The two made their way out of the room together, the youngest clutching to Daehyun - feeling his warmth and realness, still doubting what his senses told him was real, that his cousin truly was with him - the general supporting the boy as he berated himself for letting himself be gone as long as he had been and letting things reach such a state.

They stopped outside the King’s door, Daehyun holding Jongup as the boy prepared himself. He wished he could let him wait, but if what he had heard as he made his way to his cousin’s room was true, his Uncle truly did not have much time left and Jongup needed to say Good-bye before it was too late.

Finally Jongup turned and squaring his shoulders, pushed open the door, stopping as it felt like he was suddenly engulfed in a stifling wave of sorrow and pain. His father lay in the bed, eyes closed, mouth twisted up as he muttered silent prayers. Daehyun followed him in, stopping just inside the door. The King opened his eyes as the door shut behind him, eyes going wide as he took the two in.

“Jongup, my boy, I’m so sorry” his Father’s voice was gentler, quieter than Jongup had ever heard it, as though straining to be heard. “I never meant, I never meant it. I just….

“And you Yongguk, I am sorry. I am terribly, horribly sorry. I never meant for you to leave, I never wanted to lose you, I never meant anything.” Yongsu reached out to Daehyun who startled, stepping back before he ran into the door as he realized his Uncle meant him, thought that he was, in fact, the son he had spent so long pushing away and verbally abusing. Jongup rushed forward and knelt next to his Father’s bedside, reaching for his Father. “I am sorry it took you leaving for me to realize what I had done.

“You just… I just… you look so much like your mother. It always hurt so much to look at you. And then when you had the wisdom and patience to see what I could not, just as she used to, I couldn’t stand it. You were right my son, you were always right. Your treaty is perfect and I never wanted to admit it.”

The King was crying now as Jongup held his Father’s hand, wishing his older brother was still there, could hear his Father’s apology himself. He swore to himself he would tell him when he found him. The King’s breathing was becoming even heavier and more raspy now, the physician hurrying forward to monitor the Royal.

“I’m so sorry I was not… and can never be what and who you needed…. I am so sorry I became the very antithesis of what… I had always wished for you. Please, replace me,… be what I could not be in my final days.”

Jongup gripped his Father’s hand harder, watching as the man closed his eyes, a quiet smile growing on his face. He began praying, glad to see Father Kim step into the room, prepared to say the prayers for the dead and give the King Last Rites. Daehyun and Jongup spent the next hour praying and then the general and the other men in the room stepped out to allow Jongup more time with his Father before he finally passed as the physician was sure would happen soon.

Daehyun stood outside the room waiting and thinking. He was nervous as he thought about what would come next, the announcement of the King’s death, helping Jongup to handle everything, explaining why Yongguk was not on the throne and making arrangements to help Jongup replace the King in the absence of his Brother. It was the last two things that scared him most as he was unsure of how they could possibly explain everything. He sighed and sat. He would not cry now, but he knew that later, when he was finally alone, and Jongup asleep and no longer in need of him, he would mourn his Uncle as he so desperately wanted to.


	15. Bad News

The gentle rise and fall of Yongnam’s chest captivated Youngjae as he continued to hug the man tight. This was the third or fourth time Yongnam had had a panic attack this severe and Youngjae was especially glad he had been so accepting of his offer to cuddle. He knew the Noble was touch starved and it had been the only thing he had been able to think of that may help calm the drowning man the first time. His mind was lost as he contemplated what to do, his concern for his newest friend’s mental state and what he had found in the course of helping him occupied his mind.

The Ring he had found when he was first helping Yongnam told him all he needed to know about the background of his strange patient. He still hadn’t told Himchan about the fact that Yongnam was not Yongnam at all, but Yongguk, Prince of Natioria, and he wanted him to tell them in his own time. Not to mention the fact that Yongguk was someone Himchan would be very hard pressed to forgive, if he knowingly met him. He sighed. He had had his suspicions as reports that the oldest prince of the enemy country had not been seen in months reached them from the spies, and then he had found Yongnam in the forest, but then, he had also been rumored to be a scholar and a man who enjoyed holing himself up in the library. The ring had simply confirmed his suspicions. He knew Yongguk was hiding his identity for a reason, and he wished he could help the man, but he wasn’t sure how.

He tried to sit up for a moment as an idea hit him, forgetting for a moment that he was currently curled around he man he was so desperately trying to help. Yongguk was scholarly. He may enjoy the library then! Perhaps it would help calm the man and help him to avoid too many more of these panic attacks until Youngjae found a more permanent cure. He settled, satisfied with this idea, hugging Yongguk just a little closer before going to sleep himself.

Himchan nodded as Youngjae explained his idea. It made sense that perhaps Yongnam was not the most warrior-like of men and would enjoy studying more. Besides, some of his own men were scholars and could keep an eye on the invalid. He approved his best friend’s idea, calmly motioning for the apothecary to go tell his patient. He hoped that Youngjae was right that this might help Yongnam. He had begun to talk to him and was quickly realizing he was a very intelligent man. He was increasingly worried as he kept having panic attacks, but now that Youngjae had offered a possible, although most likely, temporary solution, he was completely willing to take it.

He sighed before a sudden knock on his door caught his attention. Confused he called for the visitor to enter, wondering if perhaps Youngjae had forgotten to tell him something. A soldier stepped in, taking off his helmet before bowing to the prince. He straightened up and Himchan recognized Seunghoon, one of their Astrean spies and sighed.

“Report?”

“Sir, I have grave news out of Astrea. King Yongsu is dead and his son Jongup is to ascend the throne with the general Daehyun as his assistant.” Seunghoon looked nervous, his eyes darting from the Prince’s face to the floor as though he knew what the prince was thinking.

“Jongup? What about Prince Yongguk? Is he not the eldest?” Himchan’s was confused, the report unexpected.

“Sir, the eldest prince has disappeared. His brother and the general announced that he was missing when they announced the mourning period for the passing of the King. People are unsure of when he went missing, but some are saying it was a few months ago, others say he left after the King died. No one knows.” Seunghoon shifted nervously, pushing his dark hair back a little as he waited for Himchan’s reply.

The Prince nodded at him. “If that is all, you are dismissed. Go rest and be with your family for a while Seunghoon. I know you have not seen them in a while.”

“Thank you, sir.” With a quick bow, the tall boy stepped out again, readjusting his helmet and hurrying down the corridor, already thinking of his family.

The Prince sighed. He supposed his Father would be receiving the same news from Jinu, and soon it would be universal knowledge. He stood and considered for a moment. Yongnam was Natiorian. He would probably wish to know of the death of his King and the missing Prince and it would be best to have it come from a familiar and friendly source. He turned toward Youngjae’s quarters already formulating the best way to tell them the news as he walked.

When he knocked on Youngjae’s door before stepping in, he was greeted with his best friend rubbing gentle circles on Yongnam’s back, muttering what sounded like soothing words and encouragement to him. He immediately felt a little worse knowing what news he was about to give them and considered waiting a little while. He made to leave when Yongnam looked up and smiled a little.

“Ah, Himchan! Thank you. Youngjae told me you wanted to let me spend time in the library. I look forward to it… back home I spent so much time there… I still miss my books.”

A wistful look covered Yongnam’s face and Himchan felt his heart drop. How was he supposed to tell this man that his King was dead? He could not do it. Not after finally seeing him happy like this. He cleared his throat, nerves clogging it, and nodded his head as a form of welcome as he edged back toward the door suddenly unable to face either his best friend or this man he was quickly coming to care for as a good friend.

“Channie? Was there something you came to tell us? Did I forget something?” Youngjae was standing now, looking at the Prince with confusion. It wasn’t like him to come down to them for no reason.

“Ah” he was trapped. He could not lie, but he wanted to allow Yongnam just a little more time to enjoy the thought of the library. He reached for his hair to smooth it down and Youngjae caught his hand.

“Channie, what’s wrong? You’re fidgeting with your hair. You only do that when you’re upset. What’s wrong?”

“I…” He fidgeted a little more before looking at Yongnam. “I’m sorry Yongnam, but… I just got word from Natioria. King Yongsu is dead. His son Jongup is going to ascend the throne with Daehyun as his advisor.”

Yongnam froze, the quiet, watery smile he had just been sporting melted off his face with all the color as he looked at Himchan for confirmation before quietly slumping forward, eyes closed, tears streaming from them and head in his hands. His body shook as he sobbed and Himchan wanted to sink into the floor and let it swallow him whole. Youngjae rushed over to the bed sitting beside him reaching to rub his back before Yongnam sprang back up, face now red and blotchy standing and staggering toward Himchan who took a step back before thinking better of it and reaching out to catch the distraught man should he fall.

“H- he can’t be. The king- he… he can’t” he fell to his knees before the Prince, before slumping over, passed out in the face of his overwhelming emotions.

“I’m sorry Yongnam”

Himchan was surprised at the force of the man’s reaction, but picked up the invalid, once again shocked and vexed by how light he truly was. He carried him to the bed and Youngjae watched as he laid him down, eyes sad but also hiding another emotion the Royal couldn’t place.

“It’s probably best to let him sleep and process it all in his own time Channie. You should probably go. I’ll watch him.”

The Prince nodded, his throat tight as he went to leave.

“Oh, Channie?”

Himchan turned to look at his Best Friend.

“I’m sorry I made you tell. We’ll make sure he’s alright though, ok? Don’t you dare feel guilty.”

Himchan nodded, silent, and left, worry eating him as he went.


	16. Focus

Hurried footsteps preceded Daehyun as he approached his cousin’s room. Jongup had been reclusive after announcing the death of his Father and the disappearance of Yongguk and it worried him. He gave him space though as he knew the boy was still in mourning and needed time to come to terms with everything that had happened. It had been a week now though and much as Daehyun wished to let Jongup continue mourning for another week as was customary, their country was also at war still and work needed done. Standing before his cousin’s door, he straightened his outfit, knocked on the door and let himself in

“Jong? Jong it’s me Dae. Are you doing alright?”

He glanced around the room, taking in how neat it still was, before landing on the form hunched over the desk scribbling away furiously at some papers. At the sound of the general’s voice, Jongup whipped around hands behind his back as though trying to hide what he had been working on.

“Jong? What are you doing? Why are you trying to hide that from me?”

“Uh? Oh, the treaty... I’m sorry Dae… I just, I suppose I’m not really used to the thought that… Father… I was terrified he’d take them from me if he knew I was trying to continue what Gguk started.” A shadow passed over Jongup’s face at the mention of his father, sadness apparent at the memory of the King’s passing, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had come, replaced with a mask of determination.

It scared Daehyun to see Jongup like this. So unwilling to let himself mourn and instead forcing himself to push through and complete what Yongguk had wished for before he had left. He was becoming increasingly worried about his other cousin as well, as, other than the clothes and his horse, there had still been no clues as to the older boy’s whereabouts. Hakyeon had come to him and reported that Orion had returned rider-less a week after the Crown Prince left, whilst the men were still out searching the countryside and he himself had been banished, and no one had known from which direction the horse had come. Considering Yongguk had been missing for months now, Daehyun was unsure he was even still alive. He had not been in Latrosia as Junhong and Junseo’s father would have sent word and Daehyun could not believe Astrea would not use the prince as a bargaining chip in order to end the war faster had he somehow found himself in the enemy country, which only left their home country, a country in which no trace of him was to be found.

Sighing he shook himself a little and stepped over to look at the parchment on which Jongup had been carefully copying his brother’s original manuscript. He picked it up and scanned it before looking over at Jongup.

“Jong, are you sure you want to do this right away? I know the people are tired and this will help them, but shouldn’t you give yourself more time to mourn?”

Jongup whipped around, snatching at the parchment lips pressed together in a thin line, determination etched into his face. He slumped into his chair again as Daehyun settled a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I have to Dae. Yongguk… Gguk wanted this so badly and worked so hard for it. I know rationally, it probably won’t bring him back, even if he… even if he has survived out there without the men finding him, but some part of me…. Some part of me feels like if I do, it will at least bring back a small part of him, give me something to feel like he’s smiling at me for.”

“Jong, we don’t know that he’s dead. Hakyeon and Taekwoon have been combing the countryside with their team and no one is better than Jaehwan at finding those who do not wish to be found.”

“Dae, it’s been months! Eight whole months with no sign of him, no word from Latrosia, no threats from Astrea. I—“ Jongup choked for a moment tears welling up, “I think he’s probably dead Dae. I don’t—”

Daehyun lead his cousin over to the bed before wrapping him up in a warm, tight hug, allowing him to cry into his shoulder as the weight of everything continued to settle on the young King’s shoulders. He gave an involuntary shudder at the reminder that this young boy now held more responsibility than he had ever expected or trained for. He mourned that Jongup, much like his older brother, was being forced to grow up more quickly than Daehyun would ever willingly allow.

A gentle knock on the door caused the general to look up and smile softly at the slim, boyish figure illuminated by the torches in the hall. He motioned Junhong in before carefully unwrapping himself from his cousin who had fallen asleep, exhausted by his emotions and lulled by Daehyun’s warmth and reassuring presence, giving place to the younger page.

“He’s having a rough time of it Jun. Treat him well. I’ll go find Junseo and let him know you are with the Prince.”

“Thank you, sir. I told him I was coming here, but I believe he wanted to speak with you on some matter.”

Daehyun nodded and left the two boys curled together on the bed, reassured that Jongup’s best friend would take care of and provide him with all the comfort he may need. He made his way to the soldiers’ barracks, already planning to search out Junseo and find out what he had needed.

“Sir, I wish to extend my condolences on the loss of your Uncle and King. I understand you have been busy this past week in the wake of his death and I wish to offer our help in any matter you may wish.”

“Thank you.” Daehyun sat down across from the seat the foreign ambassador had previously occupied, motioning for him to take a seat again. “Thank you for your understanding. There is so much to do, and Jongup is so young. I worry for him.”

Junseo nodded and they sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Daehyun let his mind wander as the quiet of the room and the crackle of the fire lulled him. Memories of his Uncle slipped in, filling the empty spaces as he sat.

_Two voices, one deep and caring, one youthful and excited, approached down the hall as Daehyun finished writing and handed the parchment to his tutor. Turning he was met with his smiling uncle, his four-year old cousin Yongguk clinging to him tight and smiling wide and toothy as he tried to tell his father about his latest discovery. The boy was inquisitive and curious, constantly getting himself into trouble. Daehyun smiled back at them, knowing that if they were here, his tutor would call an end to the lesson._

_“Hello Dae. Yongguk asked to come see you. You’re doing well in your studies, so I didn’t see why not. Your parents are proud of you my boy.”_

_“Thank you, Uncle. I try. What has Yong discovered today?”_

_“Dae! There are horses! And they’re HUGE!” Yongguk’s eyes went wide and he let go of his father long enough to gesture wildly at his cousin trying to attempt to explain the size of the animal with his toddler hands, “and, and they run so fast! And I rode one! I was high up!”_

_Yongsu smiled fondly at his son as the three continued down the hall, the four year old still explaining his discoveries animatedly to his older cousin._

Daehyun shook his head a little before another memory surfaced, Yongguk and his father, always attached at the hip, talking and laughing and smiling together, until it all went so horribly wrong. He cleared his throat, standing and excusing himself to Junseo who nodded in understanding before turning to leave.

“Sir, we can help look for him, if you would like. My men can help yours search. They have not returned home yet and many hands help make light work.”

Daehyun gave him a watery smile of gratitude “Thank you. I’ll let Hakyeon know.”

He hurried out then, on the way to his room so that he could properly mourn in peace.


	17. Hikikomori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one I feel the especial need to warn about. It was really hard for me to write myself and I don't want anyone to read something that will affect them in a majorly negative way. A good deal of this chapter was inspired by Yongguk's Hikikomori.

If Youngjae had been concerned before, he was well and truly worried now. Yongnam (or should he call him Yongguk? He couldn’t decide now that he was certain of the truth) had been silent, and unresponsive the last few days, staring at the walls in a dead stupor only eating or drinking when the apothecary manually forced him. He had been unwilling to leave his charge alone, but Himchan had promised that his men would watch over their friend while he went and gathered some herbs he needed.

He was as quick as he could possibly be, searching through the underbrush for what he needed before going back to his home, already planning out a simple stew and a tea to feed Yongnam. Both Himchan’s men nodded to him as he went to open his door and he nodded back.

What met him when he opened his door made Youngjae stop in his tracks. Parchment lay everywhere on the floor, crumpled and ripped, a chair was overturned in the corner at the base of the wall, as though thrown and more than a few of Youngjae’s various herb bundles lay crushed and broken on the floor. His heart dropped as he rushed toward Yongnam’s room, basket of herbs forgotten in the doorway, where he had dropped it in shock, in his rush to find his friend. Yongnam was not in the bed any longer and Youngjae whipped around, eyes searching for Yongnam’s emaciated form. A curled up, motionless shadow beneath the table, caught his attention as the apothecary moved toward the displaced Royal. He dropped to his knees, chest aching as he took in how broken Yongnam looked.

His face was streaked with tears, eyes closed as though attempting to shut out what he did not want to believe. His arms were tightly wrapped around his knees, hands clawing at his own form as he curled up to take up as little space as possible, leaving marks that would surely bruise later. His cheeks were sunken and when Youngjae reached out to him his eyes were hollow, dead as he glanced at who had disturbed him. He sighed and simply closed them again, seeming to sink back into himself and Youngjae felt a lump climb up into his throat, tears welling up as he tried to comprehend just how broken this man was.

“Yongnam, please, get out from under the table. The bed is much more comfortable.” Youngjae sat, just at the edge of the table, not quite under as he spoke.

Yongnam did not respond and Youngjae scooted a little closer, growing increasingly worried at the lack of response.

“Yongnam? Please?”

Youngjae continued to inch closer and closer to Yongguk, pleading all the while for him to get out from under the table, until finally he was wrapping the man in a hug and gently prying his fingers from their bruising grips on his arms. He sat and felt the reassuring rise and fall of Yongnam’s chest as he breathed, promising him, that though the man was broken, he was alive still. Finally he unwrapped himself before crawling out from under the table and looking around for some way to move the Natiorian back to his bed.

Finally he sighed and moved the table a little before wrapping Yongnam in a hug again.

“Yongnam, You don’t have to move entirely on your own. Please, I want to move you to the bed, but you need to help me. Please. Just stand, I can do the rest.”

Finally Yongnam stirred, uncurling slightly, eyes still closed as Youngjae tugged him up, almost toppling as he overcompensated for his weight, the invalid’s malnourished frame making for a far too light load. Carefully Youngjae lead his friend back to the bed and layed him down, moving the blanket to cover him before calling one of the soldiers into the room.

“Taeseon, please, go get Himchan, I need to speak to him. Please.”

The boy looked at him with worry before glancing around the shattered room and then nodding his understanding. Youngjae sighed, thoughts occupied with the hidden Prince and what he was planning to tell his own Crown Prince when he answered his summons. He began to straighten up the room, picking up the chair from where it had fallen, replacing the table and cleaning up the crushed, unusable herbs.

By the time he was done, Himchan stood at his door, worry etched deep into his face, eyes searching Youngjae as though looking for physical wounds and the answer to his urgent summons.

“Channie.” Youngjae’s voice was uncharacteristically serious and quiet. “I need to talk to you about Yongnam.”

“What? What happened? Is he alright?”

“No Channie. He isn’t.” Youngjae showed him the crushed herb bundles and pointed to the dent left in the wall from where the chair had hit it, “he had a major break-down before I came back from gathering fresh herbs. I found him hidden under the table, curled up, crying, fingers digging into his arms. He looked so _broken_ Channie, I’ve never seen someone so broken before. I….”

“Breathe Jae, breathe.”

Youngjae had begun to cry uncontrollably as he spoke, the tears coloring his voice and choking him as he tried to tell Himchan everything he wanted to.

“Jae, can I ask? Something has been bothering me about Yong. What if he isn’t really named Yongnam, which I suppose is obvious enough, but Yongguk?” Himchan glanced at his friend as though asking for validation. He frowned as Youngjae gave no reply, frozen in place. “I mean, the Natiorian Crown Prince has been missing for months, his name starts with Yong and some of the reports of the previous King say he was not always the kindest to his oldest son. And then suddenly you find a Natiorian lost in the woods who says he’s a Noble whose name starts with Yong, who’s Father didn’t approve of him and this reaction to the King’s death…. Youngjae, is there something you’ve been hiding?”

Youngjae turned red before slowly moving back into his room and emerging with something hidden in his hand.

“Please don’t be angry Channie, but I just wasn’t sure how to tell you. I didn’t want you to get angry at him, since he’s obviously already suffering so much” Youngjae cleared his throat a little, tears starting to clog it again, “but I found this on him when I was first taking care of him.”

Youngjae handed Himchan the ring with the Natiorian Royal Crest on it. The Prince stared at the jewelry, frowning before muttering a little under his breathe and turning to his best friend.

“Jae, I am not angry at him, nor am I entirely angry at you, but I am angry and I feel a whole range of emotions from betrayed to simply sad. I understand why you did it, I understand that he needs help, but please, don’t ever keep something like this from me again.” Youngjae hung his head, heart dropping further and further with each word before Himchan set a hand on his shoulder, “Now we need to help Yongguk. I’ll help you keep watch over him, alright? I’m not entirely sure what to do or how to help him, but for now, let’s keep watch over him alright?”

Youngjae flung himself at his best friend, hugging him tight and close, relief flooding his frame as he whispered, “Thank you.”

It was Himchan’s turn to watch over Yongguk. He stretched, glancing over at the bed before closing his eyes a moment. It was so late and he had had to attend a meeting which made him consider asking to skip tonight, but Youngjae had had circles under his eyes and an edge to his voice that only came through when he was fatigued beyond words so Himchan had told him to sleep in his room and he would watch over the foreign prince. He glanced over at Yongguk again, curiosity slipping into his thoughts as he tried to imagine being separated from Hyon or HyeonJu, to be unaccepted by his own father. His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the thought and he wondered how Yongguk stood it.

He continued blinking slowly, trying not to fall asleep from the exhaustion.

A scream, something broken and wrong and unnatural pulled him to consciousness and he jerked upright, looking toward Yongguk before panicking as he realized the bed was empty, standing he turned only to see Yongguk laying on the floor, writhing as though fighting off an unseen attacker, and then he screamed, the same broken cry that had woken Himchan.

He stared for a moment uncomprehending before scrambling forward, reaching and then pulling his hand back as though burned, unsure what to do. Yongguk continued to scream, his screams beginning to form intelligible sentences Words like “NO” and “I’m Sorry” and “Why” filled the spaces. Himchan was at a total loss, his stomach twisted as he tried to think how to help. He felt useless. As the Prince tried to think what Youngjae might do in this position, Yongguk began to laugh, great gales of laughter that were not in any way the result of mirth, but those of a broken man, mixed with the broken screams. Himchan had not known it was possible to be more disturbed than he already was as he watched this man, the man he had begun to start to consider a friend fall apart so completely and totally and it was terrifying.

Himchan couldn’t stand it anymore and he reached forward, grabbing Yongguk’s hands as they folded in front of him, clutching at and ripping at his clothes, and held them, considering before he pulled Yongguk up, slipping behind him in a back hug, praying it would help calm the poor man. He held on as Yongguk continued to writhe, hugging him tight and closing his eyes, praying like he never had before that somehow, he could get through to him.

“Yongguk… Yongguk!... _Yongguk!_ You’re alright! No one, nothing is here. You have done nothing. Please Yongguk.” Himchan was desperate, calling out to the man, “Please Yongguk, you’re alright, come back. Please.”

With a jolt, Yongguk’s movements slowed, and then he was sobbing and Himchan was adjusting his friend until he could cry into his shoulder. Himchan felt as Yongguk fisted his hands into the fabric of his hanbok and he simply hugged the man tighter, praying that what he was doing was right.

Finally Yongguk fell into something of a fitful sleep, his crying finally abating, the only remainders a few left over tears, even in his sleep and Himchan loosened his hold. He looked at his friend contemplative, before he finally simply grabbed the blankets and pillow off of Yongguk’s bed and wrapped them up together to sleep. After having woken to such a disturbing and terrifying sight, Himchan refused to allow Yongguk to ever sleep alone again, not while he was still so broken.

In his exhausted haze, he wondered how they could possibly help, but cut himself off. Tomorrow. He would talk to Youngjae and they would figure it out tomorrow. He dropped off to sleep, exhaustion overwhelming him like a wave.

Youngjae slipped back into his quarters, feeling much better rested than he had in a week. Humming quietly under his breathe he made a broth and prepared some bread and porridge for breakfast for the three of them. When he was done, he stepped over to the doorway to the room before he stopped, a frown and a smile tugging at his mouth as he was met with both Crown Princes sleeping on the floor, Yongguk pressed close to Himchan in a tight, comforting embrace. He was glad to see Himchan was helping the man but was confused and concerned that both were on the floor.

Crouching he nudged at his best friend, hoping he would not wake Yongguk in the process as Heaven knew the man needed the rest. The Prince blinked at him sleepily before his eyes widened as he realized where he was.

“Is he sleeping ok Jae? Last night….” Himchan’s soft voice, colored with worry, trailed off, a gentle note to it Youngjae knew was usually reserved for his sisters embedded in his tone.

“Yes. Thank you Channie. Come eat breakfast, we’ll let Yong sleep.”

After Himchan had carefully disentangled himself from the blankets and Yongguk’s tight grip, he sat down with Youngjae, noting with appreciation the easy to digest foods he had chosen, thankful to know that Yongguk was well taken care of. After a few bites though he set his food down, suddenly reminded of the previous night and unsure he could eat anymore.

“Jae, he’s so broken… How did he even end up so far gone? I don’t understand how anyone could treat someone badly enough they end up like him. And he left his brother too. I can’t imagine being separated from my sisters, what must it be like for him?... Last night Jae… it was terrifying.” Himchan closed his eyes as though to shut out the memory, “he was screaming and it sounded awful, and then he started laughing. Jae, I pray to God I never have to hear him laugh like that ever again. It was the most disturbing and simultaneously terrifying thing I have ever witnessed.”

Youngjae frowned more and more as his friend spoke, worry creased his forehead as he glanced toward the room where their friend still slept. He stood and began to fiddle with a few of his herb bundles, sorting through them before turning to Himchan.

“Channie, from what he’s told me, his Father is to blame at least in part, for his mental state. I’m going to make him some tea with this Lavender and Chamomile, as they help to calm and soothe, and then one or the other of us needs to be with him at all times. There is no way we can allow him to be alone anymore Channie. I think… I think that day I found him under the table he may have been trying to find something to hurt himself with. I keep my one blade with me when I go into the forest, but if I hadn’t…” Youngjae left the sentence unfinished, neither wanting to admit what he was implying vocally.

“Let me sit with him Jae. I can bring most of my work and do it here. That way you can still go and help the people who need it and gather new supplies as necessary.” Himchan stared at Youngjae, determination and authority apparent in his posture and eyes as he made the request.

The Apothecary nodded. The arrangement made sense and he had a few patients he had been neglecting in favor of caring for Yongguk, a case he felt was far more critical.

“Alright Channie, please do.”

What followed were several days of simple waiting as Himchan and Youngjae rotated in and out of the room, taking turns making sure their friend was never alone as he mourned, hidden somewhere deep in his own mind. Himchan was unsure of when he had started to do it, but he found himself talking to Yongguk, little snippets about his own sisters, something his father had said, perhaps advice his Mother had given him.

“Minsu told me she wishes she didn’t have to learn sewing, that dancing is more fun. She makes me laugh sometimes.”

“The meeting today was so boring. I almost fell asleep. How does father sit through them?”

“Mother has the sweetest singing voice. She’s teaching Minsu and Minju, although she’s taught me a little too.”

“Jae tried getting me to eat one of his herbs today. It smelled foul so I told him I’d rather live.”

“How can you stand being separated from your family? I tried to imagine being separated from Minsu, Minju, Mother, Father and I… I can’t. You are so strong Yongguk even though I have seen you broken, you still seem strong. I admire that.”

“I swear if Father gives me any more of these reports to analyze my eyes will fall out from the boredom.”

“How are our finances such a mess? What has our treasurer been doing?”

“Father needs to call a truce; our soldiers are tired.”

Himchan startled as Yongguk suddenly moved, sitting up, eyes suspiciously wet and face one of regret and guilt.

“I tried. I tried everything to end it and Father refused. I’m so sorry. I should have tried harder.”

“No! No! Yongguk!” Himchan stood and moved toward the bed, shocked and aghast that _this_ was what finally earned a response from the foreign prince. “No I’m sure you truly did all you could. Please, calm yourself. I am sorry to have made you feel as though you needed to apologize!”

As he spoke, he was slowly easing Yongguk back down onto the bed, carefully watching his face to make sure he did not hurt him. All he saw was the same guilt and tears. He settled the man before turning to pick his reports up.

“He was always a good fighter, Jongup.” Himchan started as he registered the quiet words, the words gaining strength and force as he listened to Yongguk continue. “He could handle the sword with such grace and ease. He never wanted the throne. All he wanted was to be able to do what he loved, swordfight, lead the army, serve his King. If you could have seen him practice,” Yongguk gave Himchan a small, very watery smile “He looked like he was dancing rather than fighting, lithe, graceful and every bit as deadly as nightshade.”

Himchan waited as Yongguk’s words slurred and dropped off and he smiled as the man fell asleep with a much more relaxed face, his watery smile faint but still there. He slipped away from the bed, stepping out of the room for a moment as he saw Youngjae sorting through his herbs from his latest excursion to the forest.

“He talked to me Jae. Told me about Jongup.”

“He what?” Youngjae’s eyebrows shot up almost as fast as he whipped around to face Himchan as he registered the news.

“Yongguk talked to me about his brother, Jongup. Jae, do you think he might possibly be getting better? Even just a little? Do you think, maybe, he’s back to stay?”

“I don’t know Channie. It’s up to him. For now let’s keep watching him. I don’t want to lose him to assumption.”

“Alright Jae. I have hope though.”

“So do I Channie. So do I.”

Yongguk was now more responsive and Himchan and Youngjae felt hope. He still hadn't spoken again, but that was no surprise. Youngjae began to wonder if perhaps it might have to do with Yongguk’s personality, one he had gathered was more thoughtful and considering, the silence compounded by his sickness and grief. They still kept watch over him, Himchan doing his work in the room, Youngjae visiting his patients and brewing chamomile and lavender and other calming herbs for the displaced prince, but neither were quite as worried as they had been previously over the welfare of their friend. 

As he worked, the Astrean Prince had noticed that Yongguk seemed to respond best when people spoke to him and had taken to talking to him about the papers he was going through, the verbal expression of his frustration helped him to think and sort through the paperwork. Yongguk seemed particularly interested in the papers about the war and Himchan supposed it made sense when he considered what had made Yongguk first respond and react, knowing that the man seemed to hope for a resolution and felt personally responsible for not reaching one sooner. He began to take more and more of the work related to the War and finally his Father seemed to hand off responsibility for most of the strategy to him, noting his interest in it with Pride.

Then an odd and unexpected letter came, a request from Natioria to meet and speak, to discuss and possibly sign a Peace Treaty. Himchan rushed down to Youngjae's quarters, mind rushing with hope and excitement and shock. 

"Jae!! Jae!"

"Channie, what's wrong?! Are you hurt? Is it one of your sister or Father?!" Youngjae rushed from Yongguk's room worry creasing his face at the sudden call from the Prince. 

“Ah, no Youngjae, I'm sorry, it's just this letter!! Natioria wants to talk! Yongguk's brother Jongup has a treaty draft he hopes to look over and discuss with us. He wants to send someone in the next few weeks as soon as he receives a favorable reply. I think we might agree. Father has put this in my hands to take care of seeing as I have taken on so much of the War related work." Himchan stopped for a moment face thoughtful and considering. "Do you think possibly we could have Yongguk attend the meeting? Perhaps speak to the ambassador about helping him?"

Youngjae considered for a moment. Depending on who was sent, Yongguk may know them personally, but then again there had been the reports that he was reclusive and spent a large part of his time in the library, and he reasoned that, as a result, not many would know him by sight. Perhaps it would help Yongguk to be able to see the peace being discussed and hopefully brought about, bring him a sense of accomplishment and relief.

“Maybe Himchan. Let’s wait a bit before we make that kind of decision, alright?”

Himchan nodded as he headed for Yongguk’s room to begin his day’s work again, smiling at the sight of his sleeping friend. He seemed so much more peaceful now than he had the whole time he had been in their country and the Crown Prince was thankful, though he worried that this was just a momentary lull. The Natiorian Royal needed all the peaceful rest he could get.


	18. Acceptance

“They’ve accepted the proposal Daehyun. It is time to plan and pack. I am attending this meeting.”

Daehyun took a deep breathe, stepping toward Jongup as he shuffled through his papers. The council meeting had just concluded and Daehyun had become accustomed to staying behind and helping his cousin. He dreaded speaking to him as he didn’t wish to bring up the topic that had been at the forefront of his mind for weeks now.

“Jongup, we need to talk about Yongguk.”

The Young King stopped, his hands settling onto the table before gripping each other hard enough to turn his knuckles white, a detail the general noted with apprehension. The boy cleared his throat.

“What about him?”

“I… Jong, I don’t think we’re going to find him.” Daehyun’s voice became gentle and almost inaudible as he finally said what he had been avoiding since the thought first crossed his mind. “I think it might be time to declare him dead.”

Jongup didn’t move. For a moment Daehyun was worried he hadn’t heard him and then he noticed Jongup was shaking, the movement minute and almost undetectable. He reached out, hand hovering over his shoulder, hesitant to touch him. In the silence Jongup’s soft sobs filled the room, his sorrow palpable in the sound. Daehyun felt his heart clench and drop somewhere right below his feet as he listened.

He pulled a chair over to Jongup and reached out to hug the boy, rank forgotten in favor of a mutual mourning over a brother, a cousin and a best friend. They stayed like that for a long time, undisturbed after the maids who had come to clean slipped out and warned the other servants to leave them in Peace.

Preparations for the king’s trip to Astrea to discuss the treaty began after that, (Daehyun had been unable to dissuade him from going and had honestly been reluctant to) but Jongup was even more quiet than usual as the servants, messengers and ambassadors went in and out of the throne room and meeting rooms, a constant stream of discussions and questions and problems and solutions assaulting him. Daehyun watched on, worried, knowing he was contemplating how best to tell the Nation. Turning over in his mind what he could have done to prevent this. Trying to stall before he must admit to the world, although whether he himself had accepted it, that his Brother was truly gone and would not be returning, was unlikely.

Finally, after almost every detail had been confirmed and every concern answered, Jongup and Daehyun sat together, once again in the same meeting room as the one Daehyun had had to give his crushing advice, as the young king sat in silent thought. The General waited patiently, knowing his cousin would speak to him when he was ready.

“Dae, I think you may be right.” Jongup’s voice was so quiet, Daehyun almost did not hear him. “I know logically, you would most likely have found him by now if he were alive. No one can truly survive for almost a whole year alone, especially not in the state he was in, and not be found by you and your men. I—”

Daehyun reached over and settled a reassuring hand on Jongup’s shoulder as his voice cracked before he could continue.

“I’ll tell the people in three days. That gives me enough time to figure out how I wish to tell the them and for me to come to terms with it before we leave in a week.”

As he finished speaking the boy’s body slumped, as though everything he had just said had settled onto him with a weight Daehyun knew he could never truly comprehend. He ruffled his cousin’s hair before resettling his hand on his shoulder.

“That is a wise decision Jong. I can help if you would prefer it.”

“Please Dae. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

Jongup took a deep breath before stepping onto the Balcony his heart rate had picked up and sweat collected beneath the official royal garments he was wearing as the people gathered in the courtyard below. Even now there were messengers on their way to each city in the Kingdom carrying messages of his Brother’s Death and Condolences to all for losing the man and King that they had all needed and deserved. He closed his eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall again as he thought of what he was about to say. Daehyun straightened a few more folds in the clothing, settled his hands on the boy’s shoulders and looking him in the eye asked if he was ready.

“I think so” His voice surprised him. Quiet, but solid, steady.

“Alright. The people are waiting. Know that I am behind you Jong.”

Nodding the young King turned and stepped out into the sunlight. Jongup made a wry face at how wrong it felt to announce such sad and awful news on such a bright and beautiful day. As quickly as his face had contorted though it was smoothed back down. He could rage at Mother Nature and the unfairness of everything and mourn his Brother’s Death once his people themselves were allowed to begin their mourning.

“My People. I come to you with grave news. My Cousin, General Daehyun, as you know, has been searching for my older brother Yongguk. It is with the deepest grief that I must bring you news of yet another Royal death. They were unable to find him and as it has been almost a year since his original disappearance, I am forced to come to the inevitable conclusion that my Brother has joined our parents in Heaven with our Heavenly Father.” Jongup’s voice cracked a little and he rushed to finish so that he could step away from the rail. “The mourning period for our lost Prince begins now.”

He was almost running as he went back in, wrapping his arms around Daehyun and sobbing into his chest as he felt the hollow that had built in his chest since Yongguk left, ache like nothing else ever had. He felt the older man wrap his arms around him in a return hug and then the general lead him away to the privacy of his own rooms.

They left a week later, the King leaving with a small escort before the mists of early morning had had a chance to be burned away by the rising sun. Once they reached the edge of the forest, Jongup turned one last time, as if hoping for one last glimpse of the family he had lost in the image of his royal home before Daehyun trotted up to him, his men, Hakyeon, Taekwoon, Jaehwan, Wonsik, Hongbin, and Sanghyuck coming to surround their protectee. He nodded to them before turning his horse back to the road, riding toward Astrea, toward the hope for Peace and the fulfillment of his brother’s dream.


	19. Found

Himchan smiled as he watched Yongguk interact with his sisters. The man’s soft smile as he held Minsu’s fluffy silver cat Moondance and listened to Minju quietly read him one of her favorite books about the history of their country - a simplified version that included many of their old fairy tales and fables – all overseen by his mother and the escort he had assigned the foreign prince, Wooyeop, made Himchan smile himself, glad to see the man healing. He watched for a few more moments before stepping further into the courtyard and clearing his throat.

“I’m very sorry Mother, Su, Ju, but I need my friend back now if you can spare him?”

Minseo smiled at her son nodding at motioning at Yongguk and Wooyeop to go. “Don’t wear yourself out dear. I know you are working night and day on plans for this meeting and hoping this treaty goes well, as do all of us.”

“I won’t Mother.” Himchan leant down and planted a quick kiss on his mother’s cheek before disappearing with his prize.

“You needed me Your Highness?”

“Mm” Himchan was grinning, “One, please I asked you to call me Himchan or Chan, no need for formalities between friends, two, Astrea and Natioria are meeting later this week to discuss the treaty as you know. But—” the Prince’s face suddenly became deathly serious then as he took a deep breath, “would you like to attend the meeting? You would only need remain in the back, never speak or anything, but I hear they sent their best general and I thought you may know him and wish to ask for news of King Jongup.”

Yongguk’s steps stuttered for a second, his gait slowed and he tripped a little. It was still so strange to get used to his little brother referred to as King. Going to the meeting may be a good idea, and it would be nice to see his cousin again, as, if he knew his brother, Daehyun would be who he had sent to negotiate. But then he may also demand he return home and Yongguk could not do that. Not at all.

“I don’t think I could…. I mean, if it’s Daehyun they sent… I—” Yongguk looked conflicted.

“You don’t have to make a decision now. You have plenty of time Yong. Just, consider it? I want to see you happy and you talk about your Brother so much I just thought it may be nice to hear from a more direct source about him.” Himchan’s voice was gentle as he watched the conflicting emotions flit across his friend’s face, fear, longing, sadness. He did not want to push, but he knew Yongguk needed to attend, “Just let me or Youngjae know, alright? You have until the meeting itself to decide.”

Yongguk nodded as they came to a stop outside Youngjae’s quarters. Himchan waved good-bye as Wooyeop accompanied him back toward the training grounds. Hoyeon and Jihoon stood next to the door, waiting to replace his escort as guards outside the apothecary’s home. He nodded quietly and slipped inside, ignoring Youngjae, who had called a greeting from where he was preparing some food (or herbal remedy, Yongguk could rarely tell what his caretaker was up to with his plants) at the table, and slipped into the bedroom, settling onto the bed, his head heavy with thoughts and doubt over what he should do.

“You seem to have even more than usual on your mind today Yong. Mind telling me or is it too heavy right now?”

“The Pri- Himchan wants me to go the Treaty meeting, maybe even to ask for news of Jong. I…” Yongguk stared ahead a moment, his voice trailing off before he finished his thought, “I don’t think I’m ready at all. Besides they may want me to go back and I cannot.”

“He told you it was your choice right? Well, then it is entirely up to you. Honestly if I were you, I may at least want to go so I could see my fellow countrymen, whether or not I actually spoke to them. It would be comforting I think to have a sense of familiarity in a country that is still a little strange. That is my opinion though. Why not sleep on it? He told you have until the meeting, correct? Then don’t worry overly much.”

The Natiorian nodded once before standing and stretching a little. “Alright Youngjae, Thank you. Would you like my help with your herbs or was that Dinner for us?”

Youngjae smiled up at him for a moment “Yes please. Just follow my instructions this time, ok? No need to destroy my harvest again. How you managed to get Mint and Nightshade mixed up I’ll never understand.”

“Yongguk?” The name was merely a whisper on his lips. Jongup was seeing things. That was it, plain and simple. The man who had just slipped in and stood in the back of the Crown Prince’s advisors, the man who had his brother’s face, eyes and slight mannerisms, was a hallucination, a product of the stress of announcing his brother as officially considered dead and the hopes of ending the war as the man had wished to do himself. There was no way his older brother was here, in Astrea, the land they had been at war with for almost three years now. The longer hair that was back in the traditional Astrean ponytail, the Astrean Hanbock, the simple glasses, none of it could hide the thin, scholarly form of his brother, the slight hunch born from hours upon hours of pouring over books, the way his fingers constantly moved as though eager to turn another page or write with an invisible pen the idea he had just had. And yet he was dead. He had to be. He could not be in Astrea and Daehyun had never found him.

“Dae?”

“I see him too Jong… I… I don’t know what to think,” Daehyun glance across the room at the man in question, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead, “but for the moment let us have the meeting proceed. We can ask Crown Prince Himchan about him when the meeting is over and done with.”

Yongguk knew this was a bad idea. He should never have come. He could never hide his presence from his brother. Jongup was too perceptive and knew his brother better than anyone else alive. And Daehyun his cousin, he would recognize him in a heartbeat, which he had considered before, but not with the possibility of Jongup being there. He fidgeted, considering edging toward the door before realizing he had very little chance of slipping out without drawing attention to himself. Besides his brother had grown so much in the year he had been gone and he wanted to see him so horribly badly. It would not hurt to remain and observe the meeting before slipping away at the very end.

Himchan couldn’t believe the new King himself had come. He glanced over at Yongguk, nervous to see his reaction. The Natiorian was shifting nervously, his eyes flicking between his brother and the door every few seconds, but he also seemed to be melting back into the group of advisors his Father had given him and Himchan shifted back into his chair, motioning for Kangmin to bring their copy of the treaty Yongguk’s brother had sent forward. He hoped his friend would be alright, but for now he had a treaty to discuss and the end to a war to consider.

“These terms are rather agreeable your Majesty. Both my Father and I agree that we are ready to agree with most of them. There are points here and there that I believe we must discuss, but I wish to thank you for everything you did put into this already.”

Jongup smiled at the older man, a tired, watery smile, “we have my late brother Yongguk to thank for this actually. He wrote the original draft and then my advisors simply refined it, a process that took less than a week.”

“Pardon me your Majesty, but late?” Himchan resisted looking in Yongguk’s direction, worry beginning to eat at his insides as the Natiorian King spoke.

“Yes. A year ago my brother disappeared and we have been unable to locate him since, despite my men’s best efforts.” Jongup’s face seemed to morph from that of a youthful boy to someone who had seen too much tragedy in his life in the span of a few seconds. As quickly as the look had come it was gone, replaced with the same calm façade he had been sporting the majority of the meeting.

“Allow me to offer my most sincere condol—” Himchan was cut off by a strangled noise coming from behind him and he felt his heart drop as he turned to see Yongguk drop, his hands covering his face and breaths coming in great ragged gasps.

“ _Move!!_ Give him air!”

He was up and out of his chair as he shouted his orders, the advisors separating and letting him make his way to the Prince who now lay in a shivering ball on the floor, tears streaming down his face and still struggling to breathe. As he reached to help Yongguk, another smaller pair of hands reached out and wrapped around Yongguk in a hug, Jongup pressed his face to his brother’s chest, sobbing himself as he held him, “Breathe, please just breathe Gguk, I’m here. Your Uppie is here. Please, please, please just breathe.”

Slowly Yongguk’s breathing calmed and the two brothers sat up before becoming aware of the shocked silence that surrounded them. Yongguk started to curl up further before Jongup stopped him, movements gentle as he held him. Himchan smiled gently at them and motioned for everyone to leave the room, recognizing that the two would need time alone.

“But sir—” one of the advisors began to protest before Himchan cut him off with an authoritative motion to get out. Finally the only people left were Jongup, Yongguk, Daehyun, himself and Youngjae who had slipped in as the other men had left, worried for his friends when he had seen neither leaving in the group exiting. Himchan motioned for everyone to take seats at the table, sending a reassuring look to Yongguk as he noticed him try to break away from his brother again before being held even tighter by the younger boy.

Daehyun still sat at the table a grave expression on his face as he watched the two men who were only now moving from the floor, Jongup still clinging like a barnacle to his older brother. He turned to the crown Prince, confusion evident in his eyes.

“As grateful as I am that it seems my cousin Yongguk is alive and well, may I ask what the meaning of this is? Why is Yongguk here with you and why have we never heard word of his location here? We have been searching for so long we truly did believe he was dead.”

“That’s a long story General.”

This was all wrong, wrong, wrong, _WRONG._ Jongup was never meant to think him dead, never meant to mourn him. He couldn’t do this, he needed to go to his brother, but his Father’s voice echoed in his head “ _You see? You see what you’ve done? You’re **POISON** Yongguk, poison to **him**. You make him WEAK!_” He couldn’t go anywhere near his brother. He never meant, never wanted—

He was on the floor now, shaking, hiding his face afraid to be seen, crying. When had that happened? It was so hard to breathe, to _think_. Everything was a blur, muffled, words and shouts indistinct, and at the same time so loud, _too_ _loud_. It needed to stop, he wanted to breathe, needed to breathe, Jongup couldn’t see him, shouldn’t see him, not now, not ever. And now there were arms around him, Youngjae? Himchan? He wasn’t sure, but they were an anchor a comfort and he felt himself calming slowly but surely. And then he finally became aware of who was holding him, who was muttering words of comfort and he felt torn between Relief, bubbling up hot and searing, scalding his insides with hope, and terror, ice cold, freezing his gut and twisting it into painful knots painted with despair. Jongup should not be holding him, hugging him, begging him to breathe, but it was Jongup he needed more than anyone else right now, the person he needed to calm his erratic breathing, to calm the thoughts and voices filling his head, to stitch up the hole that had been ripped open the day he left home.

He and Jongup sat up to dead silence, and Yongguk could feel the eyes on him, the silent thoughts surrounding him, judging him and Himchan’s association with the tattered, ripped remains of the man he had saved, perhaps even pitying him. He started to curl into himself again before Jongup hugged him tighter, face buried against his chest, relief soaking his Hanbok’s fabric.

He was grateful to the Crown Prince when he sent the men out, glad to see Youngjae step in again before he heard the disapproving “Sir” from the advisor and was reminded of his position on the floor and his proximity to the boy he had been trying to avoid for so long. He started to push away before Jongup pulled him closer muttering an almost inaudible “No, don’t you dare leave me again Gguk. No.”

He settled with Jongup then, giving in and feeling as his weight settled into Jongup’s arms, as his brother adjusted to the shift in the weight and hugged him tighter, holding on like a man who had lost something, something so precious that his heart broke when he lost it, and now that he had found it again, refused to ever let it go. Yongguk supposed he had as he thought further, remembered how he had left with no true good-bye, without even a note for closure, remembered clearly the pain in Jongup’s eyes as he told Himchan that his brother was dead.

As they sat he finally became aware of Himchan and Youngjae telling his cousin of how he came to be in Astrea and why they had not sent a notice to Natioria. He sent a ghost of a smile to Youngjae and Himchan before speaking up himself, voice hoarse and rough with exhaustion.

“I’m sorry Dae, Guppie. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright Gguk. It’s alright. I forgive you. I will always forgive you.” Jongup’s words were soft, muffled, but they lifted a weight off Yongguk’s chest, clearing away worry that he had not known he was harboring and allowing the exhaustion to come sweeping over him in a tidal wave, his eyes drooping closed and what little of his weight that wasn’t resting against Jongup settled the rest of the way; as Youngjae reassured the boy that Yongguk was alright and that he needed rest; and then he heard a gentle “Good Night” from Jongup, his Uppie. He smiled and went to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

He was avoiding Jongup. He knew he shouldn’t, there was so much they needed to talk about, to clear up and discuss, but he couldn’t shake his father’s voice calling him poison. Couldn’t rid himself of the constant guilt that riddled his body every time he even looked at his brother and so he stayed away and avoided him. He knew it was frustrating Himchan and Youngjae to see him avoiding the younger boy but he simply could not bring himself to speak to him. He said as much to the apothecary as he helped the man sort his herbs the way he had begun to be accustomed to doing.

“But what about what Jongup told you when you met?”

“That does not change what my Father told me. I can’t…. I can’t be the reason he fails Jae. I just can’t.” Yongguk looked down at the mint he had already placed in bundles as he waited for his friend’s reply.

After a moment a heavy sigh and Youngjae’s usually bright, although much softer now, voice broke the tension the Natiorian Prince had been feeling.

“I think you may need a trip to the library. That always seems to calm you and I can tell you need it.”

Yongguk perked up immediately, a smile gracing his face for a second before a shadow of suspicion flitted across. He searched Youngjae’s face for a moment and the Apothecary had to fight to keep his features as guilt free as possible. After a moment the Prince nodded and after the had put all of the herbs into their proper places, hanging some and storing others, they headed for the Library.

One of Himchan’s men, Jisung, stood outside the door, giving a nod to Yongguk and Youngjae as they entered the room filled with books and scrolls. The Natiorian prince frowned a little, realizing this meant that Himchan was nearby and he was supposed to be with Jongup, but there had been no sign of Daehyun or another Natiorian guard so he let it go as he allowed himself to relax at the musty smell of old books and knowledge, already imagining all the hidden possibilities within the old spines. A small scuff, a squeak of surprise and Yongguk’s short-lived calm was drowned in a sudden wave of anxiety as he realized Jongup and Himchan were standing in the aisle looking right at him. He whipped around, ready to leave, to escape the situation he had just found himself in, only to face Youngjae who stood in front of his only exit arms crossed, frown on his face.

“You need to talk to him. Himchan and I arranged this. You can’t run.” The apothecary unfolded his arms as he spoke, raising his hands, palms up in a placating gesture. “You have to at least talk to him Yong. Channie and I are going to leave the room now, ok?”

He stood frozen to the spot, betrayal freezing his lungs and weighing his legs down as he watched the two men he had come to trust above all others slip out of the room. He was sure they were still on the other side, waiting for him to come out and tell them about how he had finally made up with the new King of Natioria but he knew it would be disappointment that met them, not relief. A gentle hand on his reminded him of who was behind him and he tensed up again as he felt the gentle tug of Jongup leading him to sit on one of the few chairs near a very small fireplace that was only there to ensure no one froze during the coldest months. He slumped into the proffered seat as Jongup sat down across from him, waiting.

“Father apologized you know.” Jongup’s voice was soft, Yongguk almost didn’t catch what he had said, his voice was so quiet.

“He admitted to Daehyun and I that he was wrong,” with each word his younger brother’s voice was growing stronger as was his own disbelief. “He—”

Yongguk couldn’t listen anymore. He clapped his hands over his ears, shaking his head, fear overtaking him and his Father’s words echoing yet again “ _Poison_ ”. Hands gently grasped onto his arms pulling them away and holding his hands in his lap, Jongup kneeling on the floor looking up at him, massaging his hands, rubbing up his arms in an effort to bring him back from whatever scenario his mind was torturing him with. Seeing he was back with him he continued.

“He thought Daehyun was you and he told him he was sorry, that he should have listened. He really was sorry Gguk. No he _Was.”_ Yongguk had begun to shake his head in denial, tears threatening to spill. Jongup leaned forward and hugged him tight, his voice muffled as he continued, “He explained everything. You looked and acted like Mother to him. He lashed out because you were a painful reminder. It was never really you. It was him, him and his mourning, broken heart. He admitted he was wrong, that your treaty was exactly what we need and he hopes you can replace him as a better man and King than he was. So Please Gguk, come back, please. I need you.”

Yongguk really was crying now, hugging the young King back, arms tight around him, his grip unbreakable. He couldn’t believe that his brother was really truly here, really still wanted him, that his Father had, _forgiven him_? Yes forgiven him! He could barely believe any of what Jongup was telling him. And yet, and yet… his hug was real, the grip the boy had on the layers of the Hanbock was real as was the press of his arms around his torso, holding him fiercely. They hugged, hands grasping to hold each other in an embrace that was long overdue.

Himchan and Youngjae walked away from the library, small smiles of victory on their faces. Daehyun Joined Jisung at the door and saluted to the two as they went a soft smile exchanged between them in Relief.

“So are you going to come back Yong?” Daehyun stood in the courtyard, watching Himchan train with his men, as he spoke to Yongguk. He had originally come to observe and possibly even join in the training himself but had seen his cousin off to the side watching and had decided to take the chance to speak to him.

“I want to, but should I? I don’t know if I have a place in the court anymore.”

The general turned to look at his cousin shock evident in his features. “But Yong, you were the crown prince before you left. You’d be taking the throne.”

Even as Daehyun spoke Yongguk was shaking his head, a small sad smile playing with the corners of his mouth as he began fiddling with his fingers. He stopped before sighing and rubbing his hands through his hair, a habit he had picked up from the Astrean Crown Prince, exhaling as he explained.

“Daehyun, I am scarred. Maybe not physically, most definitely not visibly, but I have nightmares still, my father’s words haunt my every step, make me wish I was nowhere near Jongup and I fight myself not to run when I see him, even now.”

He cut off Daehyun’s protests. “I know he forgave me, but words are powerful and they can cut far worse things than the skin.” Yongguk shook his head, “I cannot take the throne as I am. Dae, much as I would love to lift the burden from Jongup, the country needs a King who is mentally capable of leading without panicking the first time he thinks someone, especially his late father, would disapprove, especially now, in this critical time after the war when things are still so fragile and paper thin.”

The general sighed before shifting on his feet and fully facing Yongguk. “Alright, but I’m afraid your brother will not be so easy to persuade.”

“I know”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what do you plan to do then? You have made friends with the Prince here, you have a gift for diplomacy, will you ask Jongup to allow you to stay as ambassador? Especially since you did essentially bring about the Peace, both directly and indirectly. Or perhaps come home, advise Jongup in matters of the throne at least, you were raised to be King and know things he will have to learn through experience otherwise.”

“I think Dae, that you first option would not only please me better but allow me to serve our country more efficiently. Don’t you think? Besides,” Yongguk smiled at Daehyun, a flicker of the mischievous twinkle that used to constantly live in his eyes when they were children, flaring back to life, resting his hand on Daehyun’s arm, “he already has a perfectly capable advisor beside him.”

Daehyun spluttered a moment in protest before sighing and conceding to Yongguk’s small laugh. It warmed him to hear such a simple comfortable sound escape the man who, when he had last seen him, was practically the walking dead, a corpse with no will left to live. It was relief.

“By the way Dae, how is your ward, the Latrosian, Junhong?”

Daehyun groaned.

The Natiorians were preparing to go back home, the Peace Treaty having been agreed upon and signed and Jongup, the newly crowned King needed to return to his country after he had spent a whole month away already. He trusted the men he had left in charge, but he wished to relay the news of his brother’s survival so that the country could rejoice with him. He followed Jisung (was that his name? Jongup had lost track of the many boys his gracious host was training and had provided as guides. The boy could be Hakmin for all he knew) to Youngjae’s quarters. He knew Yongguk was staying with the strange man and he hoped to persuade him to return with him.

“Gguk! I need to talk to you!” Jongup tapped on the door, excitement barely contained as he stood waiting to be granted access. He had truly missed the older boy.

“Coming Uppie. Why don’t we go for a walk? The gardens are lovely and I want to keep an eye out for herbs Jae may be able to use.”

“Alright! Please hurry, I want to talk to you about our travel plans!”

Yongguk took a deep breath, anxiety started to claw its way up his throat as he prepared to tell Jongup he was not returning with him. He smiled softly at the boy as he stepped out with the basket Youngjae had left him and checked that the door was tightly shut behind him.

“Let’s go Uppie.”

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost? Are you sure you’re ok to go for a walk? I don’t want you to force yourself.” Jongup searched Yongguk’s face, his forehead creased as he held his hands out as if to stop his brother from walking.

“I’m alright Uppie. The gardens will help me, come on, let’s go.”

They walked to the gardens together, an odd silence between them. It wasn’t really awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either and Jongup continued to glance at his older brother who had his eyes trained on the plants around them as though he couldn’t bear to look at him.

“Something is bothering you. What’s wrong Gguk?”

Yongguk jerked sharply, turning to look at him his face fell as he saw Jongup scrutinizing him. He motioned to a bench just inside the gardens, setting Youngjae’s basket down next to his feet and taking a deep calming breath before he spoke.

“Uppie, I don’t think I should go back with you. I—”

Jongup who had begun to sit, leaped up, his eyes wide and mouth moving before Yongguk could get further.

“No, you have to! I can’t—I can’t leave without you Yongguk! I’ve missed you since you left and now you’re telling me you can’t come back? Just when I’ve found you again? I need you. I can’t rule, not when I know the rightful King is in another land. I’m not nearly as strong or prepared for this role. All I ever wanted was to be a general serving you in your army!”

Yongguk smiled softly at his outburst, although it didn’t reach his eyes. He reached out and clasped Jongup’s hand, motions gentle as he thumbed at the tears that had started to fall down Jongup’s cheeks with his free hand, pulling him back down onto the bench.

“I won’t be gone forever Jongup. I want to be ambassador, which means I’ll be going between countries carrying messages and being a diplomat. I’ll be able to spend time with you, my baby brother and my friends here in this country. You need an ambassador here anyways. Now that the war is over someone needs to maintain relations here.”

“But what about the throne?”

“You seem to have that well in hand. Besides you have one of the best strategists, diplomats and generals at your side. Daehyun will advise you as well as I ever could.”

“I’m still not happy about this. Please at least come back with me for a short while? Long enough to announce to the people that you are still alive. I told them you were presumed dead.”

Yongguk laughed, a ghost escaping on the heels of a sigh. He shook his head before he smiled at Jongup, this time genuinely, a spark lit there that his brother had missed even before Yongguk had left.

“You win. I’ll return, but not as a Prince or King, just as your brother and preparing as ambassador to Astrea.”

Yongguk barely finished before Jongup tackled him, arms wrapped around him in a vice like grip accompanied by a quiet “thank you” muffled by the fabric of his clothing. Youngjae’s basket lay forgotten on the ground as he returned the hug, relief warming his frozen muscles, thawing the hope that had still been locked tight in his chest. The fears that had started to eat at him again, fears that grew with the thought that Jongup would hate him for trying to stay in Astrea, receded in the wake of his hope and he smiled into the embrace.

They would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAaaaaaannnndddd I'm done!! Tbh I'm unbelievably proud of this fic as it's the longest thing I've ever written and finished!! Thank you so much for spending your time reading this!
> 
> Btw, sorry Junhong kind of just disappeared there at the end, but he kind of just left. I kept trying to add him and he didn't want to be there, so to all the Zelo biasers I apologize.
> 
> Again, thanks for sticking with the story and spending your time reading it!!!


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